More Than You Bargained For
by delacre
Summary: Amara wanted to leave Dean with what he needed. Let's just say that her 'gifts' have complicated the Winchester Boys' lives more than they could have ever thought possible. Now there are four Winchesters to contend with. Season 12 provides the backdrop for this story, so spoiler warning!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** My first solo fic. Thanks to WaywardDaughter18 for the encouragement and her friendship. Without her, I would never have had the courage to do this. And to my friend Ellen, who's suffered through all my insecurities and the drama associated with wanting to do this fic!

For those of you haven't watched Season 12, SPOILER ALERT! This entire fic occurs with Season 12 as its backdrop but will veer off course for the sake of the story. Chapters may also include dialogue and situations straight from the show.

I don't own any of these characters, nor of course, the glorious show/phenomenon that is SUPERNATURAL.

 **Prologue**

Dean glanced surreptitiously over at her again, imperceptibly shaking his head in wonder. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel of the car he'd just hotwired. His mind was in turmoil; he had no idea how he was supposed to be feeling about this. Ecstatic, troubled, fearful, awed, grateful….they all warred simultaneously in his consciousness. But none of those emotions was as strong as the overarching guilt, however misplaced, that suffused his heart.

She was here.

33 years.

33 years.

He glanced at her again, replaying the past few hours in his head…

"Dean, you gave me what I needed most. I want to do the same for you."

Amara's words had puzzled him initially and then, as he'd made his way back through the park, he'd found her- still wearing the same nightgown she'd worn the night she died. The encounter had been a little awkward, to say the least. Obviously she hadn't recognised him at first but, after some hurried explanations in which he'd managed to deliver a truncated life history in only a New York minute, he'd convinced her of his identity and she'd agreed to come with him. She'd willingly played lookout while he'd broken into the first car they'd come across on the main road and now, they were heading back to the Bunker and to Sam. His baby brother was in for the shock of his life.

He glanced at her yet again only to find her smiling softly at him. He grinned back at her and as he turned his eyes back to the road, a thought occurred to him. When he'd first approached her, she'd taken him down in the blink of an eye. Just as he'd recounted for her hours ago, he'd already witnessed firsthand the badass hunter she'd been when he'd travelled back to 1978. It was clear that her skills hadn't diminished one iota even though she'd given it all up to become a wife and mother.

Dean couldn't hide the proud grin that spread over his face.

33 years.

Mary Winchester was coming home.

 **Chapter 1**

Dean opened the door and ushered his mother inside. He tried to deny how much seeing the recessed entrance to the Bunker filled his soul with relief and happiness. After all, he wasn't sentimental like Sam, of course, but he was fighting an overwhelmingly serious need to kiss the War Room floor as he descended from the balcony. It was a close thing.

"You live here with Sam?" Mary's eyes were full of curiosity as she followed him down the stairs.

They walked into the library and she let her hand run over the spines of the books in one of the bookshelves as she looked around.

"Yeah, when we're not on the road. It belonged to the Men of Letters," Dean replied.

"I thought they were a myth, an old Hunter's story?" Mary asked.

"Not so much," Dean took off his jacket and tossed it carelessly over the back of a chair.

Mary pulled out a random book and flipped through it. It was a book on witches' spells and hexes that was written in a language she didn't recognise. Returning it to the shelf, she happened to look down and her eyes widened.

"Dean," the tone of Mary's voice immediately raised the hackles at the back of his neck, "There's blood over here."

Dean pulled out and cocked his gun, moving over to peer down at the pool of blood that had congealed on the library floor.

"Sammy? Cass?" he called.

Dean moved stealthily, looking back at Mary every so often.

"Mom," he said quietly, pulling out a hidden gun from beneath one of the long tables in the middle of the room. He handed it to her and said in a low voice, "Take this and stay here," before wandering back through the War Room towards the sleeping quarters.

Mary stared after him in exasperation.

"Sammy?" she heard him call down the hallway.

She checked the clip in the gun and then moved steadily into the depths of the library. There were no further signs of danger but then, something caught her eye as she turned intending to follow after Dean. She came closer to a shelf housing a number of modern looking paperbacks that looked ridiculously out of place amongst the other ancient texts. They were a series of books by one author, a man named Carver Edlund.

"Supernatural," she whispered to herself, as she selected the volume called 'Bloody Mary' to leaf through. She'd just come across her sons names' when the sound of approaching footsteps forced her to replace it. She raised her gun and hid behind a column as she waited. As the intruder moved past her, she moved quickly to confront them.

"Get on your knees," she shouted, gun pointing at the head of a man wearing a tan trench coat.

He narrowed his eyes at her, as he stalked towards her seemingly unconcerned that she was armed.

"Who are you?" he demanded, as Mary took a menacing step forward, "Where is Sam."

"Get your hands up, NOW" she shouted, intent on shooting him if he came any closer.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! It's okay! It's okay!" Dean came running into the room, his arms up defensively as he stood in front of the man.

Mary lowered the gun, still on alert as Dean continued.

"He's a friend, all right? Hey, Cass."

Cass' face nearly crumpled as he repeatedly said Dean's name while pulling her son in for a bear hug.

"You're alive?" he asked, his voice filed with relief.

"Yeah," Dean affirmed, a small smile on his lips as he returned the embrace.

"What about the bomb and the Darkness? What happened?" Cass' eyes had moistened as he stared disbelievingly at his friend.

"I'll tell you everything, later. Where's Sam, Cass?" Dean asked, placing his gun in his waistband.

"He's not here."

"Are you a Hunter?" Mary interrupted, still wary. Her instincts were warning her that this person was not quite what he seemed. Something wasn't right. She thought she'd heard wrong when he and Dean said simultaneously, "No, I'm an angel." "He's an angel."

"What?" Mary's asked flatly, clearly skeptical.

"You know, wings? Harp?" Dean smirked, already anticipating the angel's reply.

"No, I don't have a harp!" Cass cast an annoyed side glance at Dean

"Angels are myths…" she whispered, uncertainly.

"Again, not so much. Mom, this is Castiel," Dean saw the doubt lingering in his mother's eyes but he ignored it, "Cass, this is Mary….Winchester."

"Your…your mother?"

Cass was shocked. He and the Winchester matriarch continued to stare at each other for a few moments before Dean stepped in.

"So, wait, uh, where….where is Sam? He's not answering his phone and there's blood on the floor.  
What's going on, Cass?" he asked.

The angel's visage became unsettled.

"I don't know," Castiel replied, his tone clearly troubled, "Sam and I came back here and there was a woman waiting for us. She blasted me away. I don't know who she was and I don't know what happened to Sam."

"Okay, well, the bunker's empty, so they've obviously left here," Dean suddenly became all business. Sure there was a lot of blood but not enough to be lethal. There was still a chance to get Sam back alive.

"You said woman. Not an angel, not a demon, a human?" Mary said agitatedly. From what she could gather, it was obvious that her youngest hadn't left the Bunker of his own free will and she knew that every minute they stood there was one more they didn't have to spare.

"When did this happen?" Dean asked, turning away from the Castiel to sit at the table. He pulled one of the nearby laptops towards him and started to type.

"Is that a…..a computer?" Mary's eyes widened.

"Yes," Dean answered simply, selecting the time stamp he was after.

"I don't trust them," Castiel narrowed his eyes as he stared at the rectangular menace.

Dean smiled to himself at his friend's words. "Got something," he announced, turning the screen towards the others, "An S.U.V. ran a red light a few blocks from here at 2:21 a.m. And there wasn't another car for 40 minutes."

"How did you do that?" Mary asked in awe.

"I hacked the traffic cams," Dean's voice held a hint of pride, "Welcome to the future."

"You think it's them?" Castiel's voice was cold.

"It's worth a shot."

Dean stood up, shutting down the computer intent on taking it with them. He told Cass to give them ten, and then directed his mother to follow him back to the sleeping quarters.

"I think you may need to….uh…" he gestured towards her and she looked down at herself.

"Yeah, I think you're right," she smiled at him as he pointed to a room further down the hall.

"We might have a few things that'll fit you," he told her, opening the door and turning on the light.

Mary stood in the doorway as he crossed to the large armoire that dominated the sparsely decorated room. He dug around inside and pulled out a few pairs of jeans, a wife-beater and some socks.

"They're all clean," he said, as she stepped forward to look them over.

He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, "Ummm...Uhh….There're some ladies', uh, underthings, uh, in the drawer at the bottom. I'm sure you can figure it out."

Mary ducked her head to hide the grin that blossomed across her face. When she was able to reel it in, she looked up and asked as seriously as she could, "Why do you have a closet full of women's clothes, Dean?" Then a thought occurred to her, "Is it you or your brother that's shacking up with a girl?"

"Uh," Dean laughed uncomfortably, angered by his own self-consciousness, "Sam and I have, um, entertained a few lady friends over the years who've, uh, left various things behind."

Mary decided to take pity on her son and let him off the hook. For now.

"It's okay, Dean, I was only joking" she said, taking the jeans from him, "Gimme a minute and I'll find something."

"Yeah, okay."

The relief was obvious both in his tone and on his face as he fairly bolted for the door.

"And Dean?" Mary called after him.

"Yeah, uh, Mom?" He wasn't used to hearing that word come out of his mouth.

"At some point we're going to need to talk about your friend, Castiel."

He stared at her for a moment, trying to decipher her curious tone but then, he just nodded and closed the door behind him.

Dean waited for Mary in the hall, shaking his head in exasperation over his own discomfort. When she re-emerged, his mother had indeed managed to scrounge up an entire outfit, including a plaid over shirt with rolled up sleeves.

Dean smiled at her. Apparently plaid ran through Winchester veins. They turned to head back to Castiel when they heard the unmistakable sound coming from his room.

"Was that….was that a _baby_?" Mary asked, already heading towards the source.

Dean didn't answer. He jogged behind her and held her back before she could open the door. He put up a finger telling her to wait and she nodded. He slipped his gun from his waistband and silently counted to three, as she readied her stance.

On three, he kicked the door in and flipped on the light practically simultaneously. What he saw left him momentarily speechless. Before him, sitting on his bed and holding an infant, was Benny Lafitte.

"Benny?" Dean was in absolute shock, as his vampire friend grinned widely at him before cooing at the child who'd become unsettled by the noisy entrance.

"Yeah, Dean, it's me," he said, looking between Dean and the woman by his side.

"Dean?" Mary growled. Again her 'Hunter senses' were on high alert. This was definitely no human.

Dean held a hand up to her and she quieted but readied herself.

"What are you doing here? How did you get out?" he asked, his eyes drifting down to look at the child.

"That's a fairly long story, my friend, but I'll cut right to the point 'cause he didn't give me much time," Benny bounced the baby on his lap and she let out a little squeal of delight.

"Who's he?" Dean asked, his voice sounding bewildered, "What are you talking about?"

"He asked me to bring her back to you," Benny said simply, standing up slowly from the bed and cautiously approaching the other man. He'd seen that look in the woman's eyes before. She was as much of a predator as he was.

"This is your daughter, Dean. I brought you Emma."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Dean stood stock still for almost a full minute, just staring at the child in the vampire's arms.

"Dean," Mary's calm, quiet voice penetrated the fog in his mind, "Breathe. _Breathe_!"

Dean sucked in a lung full of air; he hadn't even realised that he'd stopped. He moved slowly towards Benny who met him halfway. He smiled warmly at Dean, carefully holding onto the bundle that was now squirming in his arms.

"Take her," Benny said, adjusting his hold to make it easier for his friend.

Dean shook his head, and the vampire chuckled mildly.

"Come on, brother, you're not tellin' me that the great Dean Winchester's afraid of a baby girl, are ya?" Benny taunted lightly, "You're her Daddy. It'll just come ta ya, natural like."

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head for a moment. Nope, they were both still there when he opened them again, so this wasn't a dream. He looked down at the child. His daughter. Carefully, he reached out and took her from Benny holding her awkwardly in his arms.

"Support her head," Benny and Mary said simultaneously.

Dean glanced between them alarmed, but adjusted his arms accordingly. His body was out of practice but quickly recalling his days taking care of Sam. The little girl had stopped squirming as soon as he'd held her and now, she was staring up at his face, her little mouth open as if in wonder. He stared back at her, memories flooding back from the last time he'd seen her.

She'd come to see him, pretending that she'd run away from her mother Lydia and the rest of the Amazons. She'd asked for help with starting a new life and he'd almost been taken in by the plea. That immediate draw of the responsibility of caring for a child, _**his**_ child, had hit him like a ton of bricks. A life, a real future away from hunting suddenly seemed like a viable option. He closed his eyes against the memory of watching the girl's lifeless body falling to the floor, Sam behind her with the gun still aloft. His brother had done what he would never have had the strength to do.

Dean came back to the present when he heard his mother softly calling his name.

He turned to her; she'd moved closer and was peering down at his daughter who was contentedly making babbling noises and holding onto one of his shirt buttons.

"What's happening, Dean?"

He was quiet for a moment, seeing the looks she was giving Benny who, in turn, was eyeing her cautiously.

"Mom," he said, placing himself between them, "Could you give us a minute…"

"No! Dean, I don't want to leave you here with….."

"Please? It's okay, Mom, I swear. Just gimme a minute. Please just go and make sure that Castiel isn't grooming himself all over the Library. Those feathers are a bitch to sweep up. Okay Mom? Just a minute…."

He backed his mother out of the room as he silently begged for her understanding with his eyes. When she found herself back out in the hall, he stood in front of her blocking her view of the creature in the room. Decision made, she gave him a single nod of acquiescence, though the look she left him with promised that they would be having a very frank discussion about this situation very soon. He watched her retreating figure for a few seconds more and then turned back and closed the door behind him.

"Did you say that was your Momma?" Benny asked, incredulously.

"Yeah," Dean sighed, already overwhelmed, "Guess this is the day for miracle resurrections. How did you get here, Benny? Who's _he_?"

"There was this fella, Dean, a man named Chuck, He appeared outta nowhere and saved me from some of fellow vampires that were none too happy when I didn't want to join their nest. Chuck told me that he was a friend of yours and in return for helping me, he needed a favour. Told me to meet him at the exit portal and then just vanished. It didn't take me much time to get there but he was already waiting for me. He just handed me your baby girl, brother, told me her name was Emma and that he'd finally tracked her down. Wanted to give you both a second chance."

"Chuck," Dean said, distractedly, looking down at the baby, who had all but fallen asleep. She yawned and he placed his thumb in one of her hands. He smiled down at her, impressed by how strong she was as she clamped onto it seemingly for dear life. She was definitely a Winchester.

"What was your baby daughter doin' in Purgatory?" Benny asked, bemused, "and better yet, why didn't you tell me 'bout her while we were there?"

"She….she wasn't a baby the last time I saw her, Benny," Dean paused, not really wanting to say the words out loud, "I knocked up an Amazon and Emma was the result. They…uh..grow up really fast. I knew her as a teenager hell bent on killing me and I…I watched her die…..Look, it was a long time ago and I never really looked for her in Purgatory…..cause I didn't want to have to see that again….ever."

"I get it, brother. My goin' home put Elizabeth in danger. I don't know what I'd have done if I'd actually had to watch her die," Benny clapped Dean on the shoulder sympathetically.

"Yeah, but at least she wasn't hoping to eat you after she maimed and killed you."

"Yeah, there is that, I guess," Benny chuckled mildly, "It's so good to see you, Dean. How's Sam? Are you two okay?"

"We're….really good, man, _really_ good. I'm so grateful for all you did for us back then, and for bringing Emma back to me now. You've always been a true friend."

Dean didn't want to bring up the current crisis involving his missing brother. He was sure that there was some condition to Benny's being back topside and he was waiting for the vampire to fill him in. He didn't have to wait long.

"Look Dean, I don't know who this Chuck guy was or how you know him, but I felt his power and I was pretty sure I'd have done whatever he'd told me to do no matter what. He gave me 12 hours- time enough to bring you Emma and to go check on my Elizabeth. I'd really love to stay, maybe have a few beers but I got to get to Carencro and…"

"I get it, Benny. You go see Elizabeth and get your peace of mind," Dean said quietly, "I appreciate your doing this more than you'll ever know."

"What're you gonna do? What if your girl…is more Amazon than Winchester?"

Dean looked down at his sleeping daughter and in that moment, studying her impossibly long lashes, button nose and perfect mouth he knew there was only ever going to be one answer to that question.

"She's a Winchester. She's always been a Winchester. I won't let anyone or anything ever hurt her, not even me."

Dean looked up and smiled at his friend who clapped him on the shoulder again, a look of understanding in his eyes.

"Be well, brother," Benny said, and then to Emma he whispered, "Don't eat your daddy, baby warrior, he's tough like an old shoe and probably tastes just as dusty…."

"Didn't you have somewhere you needed to be?" Dean glared good-naturedly at the vampire who grinned back.

With another pat to Dean's back, Benny walked to the door stopping before he actually opened it.

"By the way. Your friend Chuck, who is he?" he asked.

Dean paused for a second then replied simply, "He's a great writer."

Benny knew there was more to it but Dean clearly didn't want to share and he respected the decision. He gave his friend a nod and opened the door, walking into a blinding light and disappearing from Dean's life again, forever.

The notification beep on Dean's phone went off a moment later, flustering him for a second as he tried to work out how to hold Emma while fishing it out of his jeans. He managed to do so without waking her up and grinned inwardly thinking that this parenting thing was going to be a snap.

It was a voicemail from Chuck. Dean huffed out an incredulous laugh then quieted immediately quickly peering down at Emma's little face. Thanking God…well, Chuck, that she hadn't woken up. He teed up the message and put the phone to his ear.

"Hi Dean! Bet you didn't think you'd be hearing from me so soon?" Chuck muttered like he was trying not to be overheard, "Sorry about doing this over the phone, but Amara and I promised each other that we wouldn't let anything distract us while we're…away and it hasn't even been 24 hours and I'm already sneaking away from the family vacation to leave this voicemail. So, here goes. By now, Benny should be on his way to Louisiana and you're in shock over, well, everything. Amara wanted to give you…and Sam, the chance at the family you've always wanted. You've both been wrongly blaming yourselves for Mary's death even though you know your family's history; that you've been protectors of the world in a never-ending war between Heaven and Hell your whole lives. No matter how inevitable the outcomes have seemed, you've always managed to find it within yourselves to do the right thing… well, with a few missteps along the way. I know you Dean, I've watched you for a _very_ long time and I know that you still sometimes dream of the life you could've had with Ben and Lisa. I know the sacrifices you made when you gave them up and that you feel like you'll never have that chance again. Emma, Dean. _Emma_ is the future you've always wanted and no matter the circumstances of her birth, she's _yours_. Dean…..you deserve your happy ending too. Okay, I've gotta go. Oh, one more thing. Yes, Emma is still an Amazon with all the _difficulties_ that entails but I've changed a few things I hope will give you two a leg up as your relationship develops. Besides, you'll have Sam, Castiel and Mary to help you overcome them. You can do this, Dean….. Thank you for giving Amara and me our second chance. Make the most of yours. Until we meet again…."

Dean stared at his phone for a few seconds, trying to absorb everything he'd just heard. Okay, he was a little weirded out that God was keeping up with his dreams but decided to leave that disturbing fact on the back burner while he dealt with the rest. Dean's new reality included a 'back from the dead' mother, an Amazonian, likely patricidal daughter and a missing little brother. He smiled down at his little girl. Looked like it was going to be business as usual.

* * *

He re-emerged to find Castiel and Mary huddled over his laptop, clearly absorbed in what they were watching.

"Hey!" he called to get their attention.

Mary and Castiel jumped, turning around quickly to look at him.

"I was trying to teach your mother some of the things I've learned about computers," Castiel explained, rising from the table and approaching Dean with a curious look on his face, "We were both amazed by how extensive and well organised your porn collection is. So many categories and sub-ca…"

"Castiel, this is my daughter Emma," Dean interrupted, his face turning red as his eyes darted frantically to his mother. He was going to pretend none of last ten seconds had ever happened.

Mary walked to her son, her eyes bright with amusement and fascination. She wasn't sure what had happened in that room, but she'd known that this was her grand-daughter from the moment she'd seen her little face; her son's nose and cheeks and his amazing hazel eyes were all represented in her features.

Something wasn't right, of course; the strange creature who'd delivered the girl was proof enough of that but right now, seeing the joy and pride in her son's whole demeanour, was more than enough to make her delay her quest for answers. They'd have more than enough time to talk as a family when they brought Sam home.

Castiel lightly touched Emma on the forehead and looked up at Dean in surprise. The new father shook his head slightly at the angel, Dean's eyes warning him against voicing what he'd discovered. There was no doubt that Castiel knew exactly the kind of child Emma was and Dean really didn't want to get into the inevitable argument right now.

"I promise you both we'll talk about everything later," he said quietly, the girl moving to suck her thumb in her sleep.

Mary stepped forward and pulled the little hand away. "We need to get her a pacifier and maybe a few of the other basics….She's beautiful, Dean."

Dean smiled at her, happy with that Mary was willing to let things go for now. Emma…Em was going to need all the badass family support she could get.

"We're going to have to figure this out quick. We need to find Sam and we can't take Em with us. Cass, could you check in on Jody and see if she or the girls might babysit for us for a few days. Maybe Mom can write down a few essentials and you can pick them up before you come back; make it easier for them to help us out?" Dean looked to his friend expectantly.

Castiel was silent for a moment but then nodded. He disappeared immediately in a flutter of wings, startling Mary and Emma who fussed and squirmed in her father's arms. Mary smiled softly as she watched her son try to settle the girl, his face uncertain yet determined to work out a way to comfort her. Em was starting to get more upset, the nap clearly over in her mind and Dean was beginning to get flustered that nothing he was trying was working.

"Dean, let me," Mary said, holding her arms out, "I'm pretty good…I used to be good at this."

Dean nodded in understanding and transferred Em to her grandmother's arms. Mary began gently rocking Emma, the words flowing from her mouth like it was only yesterday when she'd held Sammy in her arms.

Dean closed his eyes as the melodious words of "Hey Jude" in his mother's beautiful voice echoed around the library. Memories, both painful and comforting simultaneously flooded his mind; tears coming unbidden to his eyes. He didn't have long to reflect though because Castiel suddenly reappeared in front of them with an arm full of shopping bags and Claire.

"Jody and Alex were busy but Claire volunteered to help. We went shopping," Cass placed the bags on the table, "Mary's list wasn't very detailed so I brought a few different brands of everything. Hopefully I got everything."

"I'm sure you did fine, Cass," Dean turned to Claire, "Hey Elizabeth, thanks for coming."

Claire glared at Dean for a second before she smirked, "Is that another one of your old-timey movie references, old man?"

"Adventures in Babysitting, you millennial," he replied, amused as always by their little game, "Watch it on Netflix while we're gone, but don't get any ideas."

"I'll have you know that I'm an awesome babysitter, Dean, and I'm cheaper than most."

"Oh yeah?" Dean crossed his arms over his chest and braced himself for the other shoe.

"Don't worry, Winchester, I'm not charging a fee. I only have one condition which we can talk about when you get back," Claire announced walking over and introducing herself to Mary.

She smiled down at Emma who, though settled again, was now awake and curiously looking up at the two women above her.

"I'm not just going to agree to…." Dean scoffed, looking over at Castiel whose eyes had narrowed on Claire.

"Calm down, Dean. I swear it's nothing bad, okay, so both of you relax," Claire didn't really have to look up to know the looks she was getting from the two men, "Now, don't you have somewhere to be?"

Dean stared at her for a second and then nodded, "Okay, we'll talk later. Thanks for coming, Claire, we'll explain everything when we get back."

"Castiel filled me in on a few details," she replied, taking Em from Mary, "but yeah, when you get back."

Dean came over to them and kissed Emma's forehead. He ran a finger down her cheek and smiled when she stared up at him with that look she seemed to have reserved only for him. He said a soft goodbye to Claire and then he, Mary and Castiel headed to the garage.

* * *

Sam felt like a trussed up turkey that'd been shot for Thanksgiving Dinner as he lay in the back of the S.U.V. They'd been travelling all night as far as he could tell. His captors hadn't really said much on the journey but he'd gotten the basic gist of their grievances back at the Bunker when the blonde woman had blasted Cass away and introduced herself as Toni Bevell of the London Chapterhouse of the Men of Letters. Apparently their British brethren weren't exactly fans of Winchester methodology of dealing with the myriad of monsters they'd encountered over the years. Sam wasn't so obtuse that he couldn't understand how some of he and his brother's decisions would look to outsiders, but he sure wasn't about to let himself be judged by them, especially after the Winchesters had had the fate of the world entrusted to them by God himself.

Sam winced at the spasms of pain that ran down his right leg where Bevell had shot him. A hastily tied tourniquet was all that was preventing him from bleeding out at this point. He really couldn't believe that after so many years of facing the worst of the Supernatural- spells, demon blood, hexes, the Darkness infection and Death himself, that he'd be felled by a single .38 calibre bullet. Dean was never going to let him live this down.

He caught his breath at his brother's name. Dean was gone. Once again his brother had committed the ultimate sacrifice to ensure that the world kept spinning. Sam could have easily slipped into melancholy if he allowed himself to keep thinking about his brother. Right now, he needed to find a way out of this situation and fast.

His time of reflection was cut short when the back of the S.U.V. was opened and he stared up at Toni and the…veterinarian. Apparently, a bag full of cash was all the man needed to do an illegal backroom operation in his clinic. The shot of morphine and local anaesthetic had been much appreciated but, when his pleading stare failed to mobilise the doctor into doing the right thing and calling for help, Sam wasn't surprised when he found that a sudden prick to his neck was actually due to the administration of a sedative.

"What….what'd…you..give me?" he accused, as his head bobbed and he fought to stay awake.

"Don't worry, Sam," Toni smiled at him as his eyes fluttered, "We're going to have a lot of time to discuss all your failings once we move you to somewhere more comfortable. Until then you…"

Sam's world faded to black.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** **:** **Thank you to all who've read, viewed, reviewed, 'favourited' and followed my story!**

 **I just wanted to reiterate that events occur in Season 12. The first few chapters of this fic are** _ **establishing**_ **chapters- everything that's included from the episodes throughout this entire fic will be there for a reason, so bear with me. I'm going to try to update a little more frequently too, maybe twice a week so we can get to more of the good stuff!**

Chapter 3

The rude awakening was something he could have done without. He woke up screaming, registering the excruciating pain in his flank immediately. After a moment and breathing heavily, he looked around to get his bearings. He was chained to a chair in some sort of cellar while a woman, who'd obviously just shocked him with the cattle prod she was holding, smiled smugly at him. A moment later, the Bevell woman came down the stairs, sat in front of him with a voice recorder in her hand, and began her interrogation.

He tried countering her relentless questioning with threats and intimidation- a tactic which failed spectacularly if her amused facial expression was anything to go by. His attempts at discovering their current location didn't fare much better. Ironically, she seemed quite content to share more information about her organisation instead. As she'd alluded to when he'd first encountered her in the Bunker, the British Men of Letters had been tracking their cases for years. Bevell claimed to know about the first apocalypse, the fall of the angels, Lucifer- both times… but when he asked why their organisation hadn't thought to help with any of said situations, she was quick to blame her superiors for not wanting to overstep. Apparently, unleashing the Darkness had been the last straw for their British counterparts and now they were here to 'help.'

Sam scoffed at that and all out belly-laughed when she insisted that by answering all her questions, she was prepared to let him walk away scott-free. And what she wanted to know was details about other hunters, useful contacts and supernatural beings that he'd encountered or worked with across the country over the years- names, aliases, last known locations, cases they were involved in etc.

"You can ask me any kind of question you want, lady, but the answer's always gonna be exactly the same– Screw you!" He'd shifted angrily in his chair, as far as his bonds would allow him as he sneered at her, "You think this little song and dance is gonna scare me? I've been tortured by the Devil himself and you're just a poor imitation of Princess Di. You're gonna have to do a whole lot better than this."

Having thrown down the gauntlet, he was surprised when the most she had to offer was the steady spray of cold water raining down from a hose above him.

"A cold shower? Really? That's your trump card?" he taunted, watching Toni gesture to the other woman who walked past them and up the stairs leading out of the cellar. Clearly, even with all those years of surveillance, Bevell's people hadn't taken heed of the Winchester resilience.

Toni just stared at him, a small smile playing about her lips as, after a while, he started to shiver. She raised her eyebrows as if to mock his situation and he couldn't help himself when he stuttered back, "Sc..Screw you!"

She offered him a full blown grin in response, and without another word, left him in the dark of the cellar, alone.

* * *

"The doctor is _not_ in," Dean said as he approached the table with extra cream and sugar. Castiel and Mary had claimed a table on the patio of the café, one with a great vantage point of _Dr. Gregory Marion, Veterinarian_ 's empty driveway. "The barista said that the Doc picked up his usual order this morning and drove out to some stables near the airport right afterwards. He's expected back any minute for his usual clinic hours."

"Pretty well informed for someone who just sold him coffee this morning," Mary remarked, accepting the sugar packets from Dean.

"Small town," Dean answered with a shrug, "Besides, I got the impression that 'Pam' has a thing for Dr. Marion."

Castiel grunted, his gaze never wavering from the entrance to the Vet's driveway. They'd manage to track the kidnappers' licence plate to an exclusive V.I.P. car service and found the driver. The angel had almost gone full medieval on the guy in their pursuit of information about Sam's whereabouts. That confrontation had led to their current stakeout and the quest to find a mysterious blonde woman who seemed to be calling the shots. Castiel's self-imposed vow of silence since then, had just been an unwelcomed extra. Dean didn't have to be a mind reader to know that his friend was unfairly blaming himself for Sam's predicament and he told him so.

"I know, Dean," Cass muttered, gruffly, "I'm…upset. We've just saved the world, you're not really dead and the number of Winchesters on earth has miraculously doubled, yet a mere human managed to neutralise me and take your brother. We don't even know if he's still alive…."

Alarmed, Dean's gaze moved swiftly to Mary whose face had fallen at Castiel's words. She looked up at Dean and shook her head slightly.

"He isn't saying anything I haven't thought about already," she reassured him, taking a deep, fortifying breath and sippng her coffee. Then her eyes widened, "He's back!"

Castiel sat up and Dean whipped around to see the doctor's pick-up driving through his gate. They stood up almost simultaneously and made their way over to the driveway. Dean drew his gun as soon as he was hidden behind the myriad of shrubbery in the front yard, managing to run quietly up behind the vet before he'd even unlocked his front door.

"Dr. Marion, I presume?" Dean asked, placing the gun to the back of the man's head, "I think we need to talk."

The ensuing 'discussion' didn't go any more smoothly than the one with the driver. Dr. Marion's flippant responses and evasive looks set Castiel off again. Dean had to hold the angel back when he'd been about to pummel the doctor but it was his mother's 'smackdown' that really surprised him.

They'd _all_ known that the doctor was lying when he'd said that the 'blonde, unnamed woman' had paid him and left for parts unknown. When Mary stepped forward pulling out a Bowie knife and threatening to cut off one toe for every minute he didn't give them the information they were after, things became less than civilized. At first, the doctor had scoffed, calling her a crazy woman and maintaining that he didn't know anything else but then Mary had surged forward, her eyes cold and hand shaking with barely contained rage as she put the knife to his throat. Needless to say, Marion finally believed her threat. Blood dripping from the shallow cuts near his carotid, he'd let out an embarrassed cry as the sound of his urination echoed throughout the room. Mary smiled grimly as he began to stammer, his voice filled with fear.

"I….I have her phone number, okay? I….I don't know where…where they are, but she called me a… a few hours ago, asking about the sedative I gave the…the guy! So I've got her…her phone number! Please, _please_ don't hurt me, okay?"

Dean and Castiel glanced at each other, Dean more shocked by his mother's actions than the angel; Cass looked downright satisfied, admiration in his eyes. Mary grabbed the phone out of the doctor's trembling hand, fumbling as she tried to work out how to turn it on. She looked back at Dean and raised her eyebrows. Coming back to himself, he gave her a little head bob and rushed forward to take it from her. Scrolling through the received call log and getting a terrified nod of confirmation, he shoved it back into Marion's hand and growled, "Call her on speaker!"

* * *

"Dr. Marion, is everything all right?" Toni looked across at the other woman, Ms. Watt, meaningfully. The latter rolled her eyes at the mention of the vet's name and turned her attention back to the monitors which showed Sam shivering in the cellar.

"Yeah, I'm just calling, you know, to, uh, check on..on the patient," the doctor stammered nervously, staring at Mary's glinting knife the entire time.

Toni waited a beat before she sighed and said, "I already gave you a 100K for your discretion and medical expertise. Our business is therefore concluded unless this is an attempted shakedown. I can assure you, Dr. Marion, I don't take kindly to extortion…"

"Listen, bitch," Dean snapped, grabbing the phone, "I don't care who you are or what you want, but you have my brother…..."

"Dean Winchester?" Toni said with surprise, Ms. Watt turning her head sharply. Toni hit the speaker button and said, "I heard you were dead."

"Well, you heard wrong. Now, I'm gonna give you just one chance to hand Sam back….."

"Sorry, Dean, that's not going to happen," Toni replied with faux regret, watching as Ms. Watt fired up the tracking software that would allow them to locate his current position.

"When I find you – and I will find you – if you've touched one hair on his head, I will obliterate you! Do you get me, lady?" Dean snarled, his hand clutching the phone so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

She hung up when Ms. Watt grinned at her.

Toni simply nodded in return.

* * *

Dean smashed Dr. Marion's' phone on the ground and turned to the others, "We have to go."

Mary glared one more time at the veterinarian as they hightailed it back to Baby. They decided to head back to the Bunker to regroup and to put a trace on the woman's phone. Dean glanced over at his mother, who was staring silently out of the windshield. They'd been driving in silence for a few minutes now, Black Sabbath's 'Solitude' playing softly in the background. He looked in the rear view mirror at Castiel who was reading a number of messages on his phone, the crease in his forehead deepening with every one. Dean was about to ask him what was going on when he heard Mary say his name softly.

"Yeah Mom?" Dean refocussed on his mother's troubled face.

"Do…do you think he's okay?" she asked, unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

"Hey, hey," he said softly, glancing between her and the road, "Sam's gonna be fine. We're gonna track that phone and then we're gonna go open a can of whoop ass on that bi…uh, woman."

"I…I was just thinking about the last time I saw Sammy," Mary said, her voice shaky, "In my head I know he's a fully grown hunter, but in my memories….. he's my baby boy. Coming back after 33 years to find his life in danger…knowing he might die before I even get to see him again….."

"I get it, Mom. I promise it'll be okay. Sam and I have been through a helluva lot of situations that were worse than this, trust me."

Mary gave him a watery smile and he took one of his hands off the steering wheel and squeezed hers. A few more minutes passed and with his mother looking a bit brighter he decided to ask the question that had been bouncing around in his head since they'd been at the veterinary clinic.

"Hey Mom?" he began, trying to keep his tone neutral, "What _was_ that back there? If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought you were serious about…you know, cutting off the doc's toes. Sam and I, well, we have a code. We don't hurt humans…"

"Yes," Mary answered fiercely, turning to look at her son, "I meant every word. I would have started on his fingers next if he hadn't given us what we needed. You won't understand this- well, not quite yet maybe, but when you live this life _and_ you're a parent, there isn't anything you wouldn't do to protect your children. That night….I died trying to protect Sam from that…that monster. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat, Dean. Dr. Marion was lying. I would have cut off his leg if it would have led us to Sam."

Mary smiled at her son's pensive look.

"You'll understand soon enough," she said, squeezing his hand again, "Little Em is going to become the most important person in your life and it won't matter how old she gets. That feeling will never go away."

Dean nodded silently, looking back in the rear view mirror at Castiel who'd been listening to their conversation with interest. He was just about to ask the angel about those text messages when his body was violently jerked to the left as a car ploughed into the back of the Impala. Glass from his mother's passenger window showered them as Dean tried to pull Baby out of a wild spin before slamming on the brakes.

"Mom!" Dean shouted in a panic as Mary lay slumped over in the front seat.

Castiel leaned over from the back and pressed two fingers to her head.

"She's unconscious," he said, "but she'll be okay."

"Good. Help her," Dean said, touching the side of his head and seeing blood on his fingers. He got out and came around the back to check out the damage to Baby. Castiel had already opened the passenger door and was pulling Mary upright in her seat, tending to the laceration on her forehead.

They both looked around when they heard a female English accent behind them.

"Dean Winchester?" the brunette asked while leaning casually on her car. She stepped away, her hands behind her back as she walked towards him. "You should be more careful with the G.P.S. on your phone. You never know who might be trying to find you."

"Are you one of them?" Dean widened his stance, his anger immediately bubbling to the surface.

"My name is Ms. Watt," she smirked, "And yes, I'm one of the Men of Letters."

Dean filed that bit of information away, barely hiding the surprise from his face as he stalked towards her. He grabbed her by the collar and shook her as he screamed in her face, "You tell me exactly where my brother is and I might not kill you!"

"Stunningly generous offer but please, I dare you to try!" she sounded excited, grinning as his eyes narrowed on her. And then Dean barely got a glimpse of the brass knuckles she was wearing before one of them slammed into the right side of his head.

Castiel rushed her and she stepped into his approach, the haymaker she threw knocking him off his feet instantly. He looked up at her in shock and she wiggled her fingers. "They're warded, angel. Only fair that we level the playing field."

She heard Dean coming up behind her and turned, punching him in the stomach and knocking the wind out of him. Then she struck the gun from his hand, sending it flying across the asphalt.

"I really hope these aren't your best moves, Winchester. I've squared off against newborn kittens who've put up a better fight than you two clowns!"

Castiel came up behind her again and she pushed him back towards the Impala, kicking the angel blade out of his hand before she struck him with the knuckles again.

He slid down the side of the car as Dean came up from behind, swinging wildly and missing when she ducked. She punched him in the gut again and sniffed haughtily as she straightened her jacket, looking down at him as he hit the grown hard.

"It's been fun, no…really, but I have things to do and your brother is waiting…" she smirked at Dean, who was breathing heavily and glaring up at her from the road, "…so time to bring these festivities to a close."

She pulled out a gun from her waistband and aimed at Dean. She smiled as she cocked the gun and began to pull the trigger. Dean braced himself and jerked when he saw the angel blade suddenly protruding from her chest. Blood poured from her mouth as she fell down where she stood- Mary standing behind her with the bloody weapon still in her hand.

"Thanks Mom," Dean said, as she helped him to his feet.

They searched Ms. Watt's jacket and car and found her phone before placing her body in the trunk of her car and driving into the nearby lake. As they watched it slowly submerge, Dean announced that Ms. Watt's last phone call had been made from Aldrich, Missouri and with any luck, they would find Sam there.

"I'll go on ahead and scout out that location," Castiel said, as he watched the Winchesters get into the Impala, "I'll call if I find something."

"Thanks Cass," Dean said, as the angel disappeared.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Mary remarked, as she stared at the empty spot where Castiel had just stood.

"It's a lot to take in," Dean said, starting up Baby and getting them back on the road, "How're you doing with all this?"

"To be honest, I'm having a hard time believing that John turned you into hunters," Mary looked over at her son and saw his jaw clench at the mention of his father, "I'm sorry, Dean, I just... I spent my life running from this, from hunting. And I got out. I never wanted this for you and Sam."

"I get it, Mom. I…I don't want this life for Em, either…." he paused and looked at her, "….but Sam and me... saving people and hunting things, this is all we know and I think we've been making the world a better place. I _know_ that we do."

Mary stayed silent for a moment, then turned her head and nodded at her son. She'd felt that same overwhelming sense of self-righteousness that came with hunting many times before. The success of closing cases and the ever increasing number of lives you saved were so addictive, that it usually obscured one simple truth- hunters, and usually their families, died long before their time. Dean had promised they'd talk soon; to fill her in about the years she'd missed. Now that Dean had Emma, she hoped to convince both her boys that they could have a future, a _long_ future without the supernatural. But first, they had to bring Sam home.

* * *

Sam wasn't sure if he could actually take much more. He'd spent at least half a day under that spray of cold water and right now, all he felt was that paradoxically painful numbness associated with hypothermia. He heard footsteps coming into the cellar and he raised his head. Toni came to stand in front of him, one of her nameless goons in a designer suit trailing behind her and standing off to the side. She looked at him with mock sympathy and asked, "Anything you'd like to share with the class, Sam?"

"Sc….screw y..you!" he chattered, wincing with even the effort of speaking.

"Isn't that just the trouble with you Winchesters? You think that you're being brave heroes when you and your brother stumble around the country, case to case, maybe sometimes killing the monster but usually only after it's slaughtered innocent people….."

"Yeah, and you're better?" Sam was finding it really hard to listen to her sanctimonious crap.

"Yes, we are," she suddenly pulled a chair from the table and say in front of him, "We plan ahead, Sam. We study and use the lore against our enemies. Back home, every thoroughfare, every bridge, every dock, every airport has been warded. The moment a monster steps foot in Britain, we know about it. Within 20 minutes, he's been picked up. And within 40, he's dead. There hasn't been a monster-related death in Britain since 1965 because we are good at our job. Don't you think you two have caused enough damage to the world? Not once, not twice, not three times, not four…how many times do you have to bring the rest of us to the brink before you realise that maybe _you're_ the problem? You and Dean- your reign of incompetence is over but I'm hoping there are other Hunters we can work with, teach. So, I need you to give me names and locations and everything else- dead drops, meeting places, an organizational hierarchy. Maybe with the rest of us all working together, we can do what you and your brother never could – make America safe."

"And when one of those hunters decides that they don't like the way you do things, you kidnap and torture them until you get what you want? And that makes you better than the monsters, how?"

They stared at each other wordlessly, both knowing that neither one of them was going to budge. After a few more moments, Toni stood up and pulled her chair away.

"Okay, Winchester, have it your way," she turned to her henchman, "Jeremy, see if you can encourage Sam here to do the right thing. We'll speak later, Sam."

Sam stared at 'Jeremy' who walked past him to one of the workbenches behind him. He watched Toni leave the cellar while the goon came back to stand in front of him, a blow torch in his hand.

"Wow!" Sam huffed incredulously, "I see she's decided to prove my point!"

Jeremy turned on the torch and focused the flame.

"You don't have to do this, man," Sam started to struggle, wrenching furiously at his bonds, the flame all he could see as the man approached.

* * *

Sam had known pain, but this agony was on another level. Jeremy seemed to take a certain pride in his work, a small smile on his lips the entire time. Sam didn't think he would ever forget the stench of his own burning flesh, areas of both feet and arms already blistering as he did his best not to throw up. He knew he was going into shock, sheer force of will alone preventing him from passing out.

The 'clack clack' of Toni's heels echoed down the stairs, a look of distaste on her face likely from the foul smell permeating the air. Sam barely had the energy to watch her cross the floor far less react to her. He groaned when Jeremy grabbed a fist full of his hair and wrenched his head up in order to study his face.

"He's done, Lady Bevell," Jeremy said, letting Sam's head drop carelessly, "We're not going to loosen this one's tongue. Not like this."

"So, what do you suggest?"

"Well, I can kill him right now, but if you want to take this _tête-à-tête_ to the next level, you'll need to bring in Mr. Ketch."

Jeremy crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

"That sociopath would just as soon kill us all for the hell of it!" Toni exclaimed, with an incredulous laugh, "No, we're going to go a different route."

"And that would be?"

"We use the Winchesters love for each other against them. Ms. Watt is out there right now tracking down Dean Winchester. Call her and tell her about our change of plans. We need him alive." Toni stared down at the unconscious Sam with an unrepentant grin. Now this was something she was going to enjoy.

* * *

"Did you find anything?" Mary asked softly, lowering Emma into her crib.

The little girl had apparently been fussy all day and had just settled down. Claire had looked particularly anxious when they'd arrived back at the Bunker with some much needed baby accoutrement- crib, mobile, changing mat, car seat…it seemed like the list of 'absolutely necessary' baby gear was a mile long these days- well, at least that had been Mary's cynical opinion of parenting in the 21st century.

"I couldn't get her to sleep all day," the teenager had complained, "I fed her, burped her, changed her, sang to her- nothing seemed to work and then as soon as you came home, Dean, she just calmed right down."

That had been an hour ago. Dean ran his hand softly over little Em's blonde wisps of hair and murmured, "Let's talk in the Map Room, Mom. Claire said she'd sit with her 'til I come back."

Mary led the way to the door, Dean following. Claire was waiting in the hall and Dean squeezed her shoulder as she walked past him into the room.

"Thanks, kid," he said gruffly, his eyes drifting back to his daughter who was now sleeping peacefully.

"You're welcome, old man," she whispered, looking back at him with a smile.

Dean grinned, intending to head off to meet with his mother but turned back when Claire called his name.

"Yeah?"

"I…..I need to talk to you, Dean, it's….important." Claire was nervous and fidgety.

"Uh…can it wait until we find Sam?" he asked, trying not to sound dismissive, "I'm sorry Claire, but it's been almost 36 hours and these people who have him are…."

"No, of course," she nodded her head vigorously, "Sam's the priority right now. We can talk later."

Dean studied her for a moment and she smiled, trying to reassure him.

"I promise, okay?" he watched her smile broaden and then he nodded and headed off to talk with his mother.

"So, what did Castiel find out?" Mary asked as Dean joined her at the Map Table. The angel had spoken to Dean while she'd changed Em and put her down for the night.

"He's checked every man-made structure in the main drag of that town and there were no signs of Sam. I've got him checking real-estate offices to see if anybody bought or rented a place in the last week. It might be a long shot, but this place is pretty rural and there are a lot of farms scattered all over the place. I can't imagine how many Brits can be running around in Aldrich completely under the radar."

"So what can we do in the meantime?"

"Well," Dean pulled his laptop in front of him, "I'm going to go through every scrap piece of paper in this place again and recheck every database I've already accessed to see if I missed something."

"What difference will that make?" Mary asked, frustration creeping into her voice, as she rubbed her forehead, "We've spent every minute since we got back to the Bunker looking for even a _mention_ of the British Men of Letters and we've found _nothing_! Going over it again is just going to be a waste of time!"

Dean sighed. "I don't buy that. I can't imagine that American and British organisations like _these_ could be so oblivious that they've operated for decades completely independently of each other. Between our searching and Cass', we're bound to get a break."

They were silent for a moment and then Mary whispered, "When we do find Sam... how am I gonna face him?"

"What do you mean?" Dean said, his voice filled with concern. His mother was near tears and refusing to look him in the eyes.

"That yellow-eyed thing would never have come for him that night if I... I started all of this," Mary quickly wiped her eyes and looked at Dean, expecting to see a look of accusation on his face. She was surprised to see tears welling in his eyes too.

"Mom, look, I'm... thrilled that you're back. I mean, I'm so damned happy I….I can't even stand it. But our lives are _our_ lives," Dean paused, unsure if he wanted to share his next thoughts with his mother so soon after she'd come back. He sighed, deciding that the truth was likely his best bet, "You know, when you died, it changed Dad. I mean, he was hell bent on finding out what happened. The Hunter life, it just took him over. I guess I was the same. But Sammy ….Sammy, he was different. He wanted out and he went to Stanford."

"Sam had a chance to get out and he came back?" Mary's eyes widened in shock.

"When Dad disappeared, I got Sam from school and we looked for him together. Something became very clear to both of us pretty quickly. The only thing we had in this world, aside from the Impala, was each other. It's been that way our whole lives, Mom, and I wouldn't change that for anything."

Mary looked away from him for a moment, and then reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. She nodded to him and stood up.

"I'm going to go catch a few hours sleep. I picked a room closeby so if you need any help with Emma tonight…?"

"No Mom, it's okay," Dean smiled appreciatively, "I may be a little rusty but I, uh, I helped raise Sammy when you….died. I think it'll come back to me, like riding a bike. You go ahead and get some sleep."

Mary nodded again and then turned and quickly walked away. Dean stared after her for a moment and then held his head in his hands. He didn't really know how to deal with his mother's unexpected return and he was worried that he was screwing up every time he opened his mouth.

Of course, there were a couple more problems taking priority right now- Sammy being held captive by the cast of Downton Abbey- Street Gang edition and Emma. Emma who was likely still going to become the hyper-aging, daddy-killing, super powerful Amazon teenager she'd been in her previous life.

Dean sighed and closed his eyes. It was getting late and he needed to let Claire get to bed. He stood up and stretched and then tiredly made his way back to his room. He said goodnight to Claire and then sat on the chair next to Emma's crib. As he watched her sleeping form, an overwhelming feeling of awe and love swept over him. He felt his eyelids getting heavier and soon, he was asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** **Okay, I tried to get another chapter out before now, but I work 60 to 72 hours a week and it just didn't happen. Instead, here's a longer chapter that offers a bit more direction as to the future of this story.**

 **I should also mention that when I conceived of my overall plot, only 5 episodes of Season 12 had been aired. Some of my ideas have actually come up on the show since but where I take them will be different. To all of you who've taken the time to read this fic, you have no idea how much it means to me so, thank you!**

 **And if you have the time, please review as well. It means everything to authors to have feedback and insights into what you're thinking and feeling about what they've written and I am no exception. Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 4

Sam woke up on the floor, unchained. He sat up slowly, the immense agony registering in each and every nerve ending in his body. When he looked down at himself, he noticed with great astonishment that all of his injuries had been bandaged. Hyperventilating with the pain, he very carefully used the post behind him to pull himself to his feet, intending to take this unexpected opportunity to look for possible exit points. It was obvious that there was some other strategy at play here; there was no way they'd tended to his wounds and set him free without some kind of endgame. He didn't really have the luxury of stopping to analyse the situation for possible motives, however, he just needed to use every moment of this chance to get a lock on his surroundings. He started with the obvious, climbing up rickety steps to test an outside cellar door through which he could see slivers of sunlight. He rattled it, unsurprised to find that it was chained on the outside. He shouted for help through the narrow when he threw his body against it, not really expecting to be heard but having to do it anyway. That simple task turned out to be more difficult than he would have thought. Despite all the water they'd tried to drown him with, he was completely parched and finding it difficult to vocalise. He tried nevertheless, croaking out the word a few times before his voice gave out properly.

Sam limped back over to the now unused hose, tilted his head back and emptied the residual water into his mouth. As he smacked his lips, his eyes roamed the ceiling and he saw it. There was a camera above him, its little red recording light unwavering. He blinked. It wasn't really surprising that they were watching him but he needed to work out how to use this bit of intel to his advantage.

"Why did we let him go, again?" Jeremy asked, watching Sam through the same camera that their captive was currently studying.

"Part of my new strategy. You left Ms. Watt a message, didn't you? When she brings me Dean, we'll step it up a notch and get even _more_ creative with the blowtorch. Those two are all about blind sacrifice, especially for each other so forcing them to watch while the other's suffering should loosen their tongues. In the meantime, if he thinks we're going to treat him better we might start to soften him up. You did a thorough job on his limbs so it's not like he's capable of fighting his way out of here anyhow."

Toni smiled at Jeremy as she stared down at the monitor. She noticed that Sam had turned away from the camera and was staring into the mirror of an old medicine cabinet. Suddenly, he smashed it with his elbow and grabbed one of the large shards of glass.

"What's he doing?" Toni asked in alarm as she moved closer to the monitor. She gasped in horror as she watched Sam draw the glass swiftly across his neck, his body hitting the ground a few seconds later.

"Oh God!" she cried, "No… _NO_! We have to get in there!"

She picked up the cattle prod as she and Jeremy rushed down to the cellar. Running towards Sam's body she noticed the large pool of blood near his head and cried out in frustration. Jeremy fell to his knees beside Sam's head and reached towards him to try to staunch the bleeding when all of a sudden, Sam was up and swinging at him. The attempt was clumsy but their close proximity ensured that he hit his target anyway, both men grunting with pain. Toni jumped back in shock, stunned into inactivity as the two men wrestled on the ground; Jeremy had punched Sam in the stomach from his position on his knees, the force knocking Sam to his back. But then she remembered the cattle prod in her hand and she jammed it into Sam's flank, pressing the trigger button for an extra few seconds longer than needed, angry that she'd fallen for such a stupid feint.

As Sam convulsed on the dirt floor, she helped Jeremy to stand, glaring at her prisoner all the while.

"Tie him up and leave him there," she ordered, already turning away to leave the cellar, "And find out where the hell Ms. Watt has gotten to!"

* * *

"Dean," Castiel said, hiding behind a tree 100 feet from a rundown farmhouse, "I think I've found Sam. It's a farm that was rented two weeks ago to a woman with an English accent."

"And when you looked inside….?"

"It's powerfully warded, so I h….."

"I think that was your headliner right there, Cass. Text me the address. I'm on the way."

"You're not going alone," Mary's voice called from behind him.

Dean spun around and stared at his mother.

"Oh no," he said, shaking his head furiously, "You're not coming with me."

"I'm your mother, Dean, you have to do what I say," Mary grinned at the chastened look on her son's face, "Look, they targeted the Bunker and it's clear they've been watching you and Sam for a while. They'll know what to expect from you but they'll never see me coming. I'm your best advantage, right now- a surprise guest appearance from a dead Winchester."

"I…..I don't know, Mom….."

"Did I mention I gave birth to you? Maybe you want to stop for a minute and talk about Emma's mother instead…"

"Ok, let's get this show on the road!" Dean said overenthusiastically, taking one last sip of his coffee and hopping up from the breakfast table.

Mary smirked and followed him out to the garage.

Almost three hours later, the Impala pulled up a little ways down the road from Castiel's hiding spot outside the farmhouse. The angel waved them over, his forehead creasing when he saw Mary.

"You brought your mother?" he asked, staring at Dean who opened his mouth to reply.

"Is this a misogynistic thing? Did women lose the right to vote in the last 33 years too?" Mary asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes in exasperation, "It may surprise you to know, Castiel, that I'm actually pretty good at this."

"From what I've seen, I think you can handle yourself." Castiel stared at Dean who was making the 'cut it out sign' from behind Mary's back.

Mary spun around to look behind her as Dean quickly turned towards the farmhouse and said, "So Cass, have you seen anyone yet?"

"No. No one's gone in or out in the past 4 hours. I can't get any closer to the house. The warding extends to the grounds as well."

"All right, enough chit chat," Mary said, pulling out her gun and taking the safety off. You go around that side, Dean, I'll take the right."

Mary ran off before Dean could say anything else and with a look of irritation directed at Castiel, he followed her. He skulked around looking through windows as he surveyed his side of the house. Dean tried a few locked doors along the way until he came across a set of padlocked external cellar doors. He pulled at them and then stopped, keeping perfectly still for a moment. He was sure he'd heard something…something like a person screaming. He listened carefully, leaning over the door a little more to see if he could make out what…

"Winchester the elder, yes?" an English male voice said from behind him, a gun barrel pressed firmly against the back of his head.

"Yeah and you're Sir Douchewad of the British Douchewads, right?" Dean sneered, slowly straightening and raising his hands, "Where's Lady Douchewad?"

"Show some respect, hunter," the man growled, slamming the butt of the gun across Dean's temple, "Lady Bevell has been expecting you. She's actually surprised it took you so long to find us but I suppose that _is_ in keeping with your reputation as a simpleton."

Dean put his hand to his temple, feeling the goose egg that was quickly forming. "Wow, thanks for the warm hospitality! Must be those great British manners I've heard so much about," he scoffed, turning around slowly to see the behemoth behind him, "Woah! Your _Mummy_ musta fed you a Thames-full of fish n' chips while you were a baby douche….!"

It was the adult Douche that hit him again and Dean decided to take the hint. "Fine!" he said, shaking the groggy feeling from his head, "Take me to your leader."

"Move, Winchester!"

He was marched at gunpoint through the farmhouse. Sir D. led him to what had to be the stairs to the cellar and forced him to wait as he unlocked the doors. As soon as they were opened he could hear a sound that made his blood boil. He'd _definitely_ heard someone shouting before. It was Sam, tied to the base of a post, a woman leaning over him having just stabbed him in the leg with a knife.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" she said in a loud, agitated voice, "I would like the names and locations of every hunter, the passcodes to each and every Men of Letters database held in that Bunker and then we'll move onto a discussion about your relationship with the demon, Ruby!"

"Hey Angry Spice, get away from my brother!" Dean shouted, trying to rush down the steps but being held back by Sir D.

"Jeremy," the woman, likely Lady Bevell said brightly, "I see you've found our loose end. Well done."

"Dean!" Sam's voice was filled with shock and pain, "Oh my God! You're alive?"

"Sammy!" Dean said, allowing 'Jeremy' to push him down the stairs, "Yeah, I'm still kicking."

Sam managed a grimace through his pain to show his joy at those words.

"It's okay, little brother, I'm here to get you out."

"American bravado," Lady Bevell scoffed, "One of your greatest weaknesses, Winchesters…"

"Who the hell are you, lady?" Dean turned to look at her, officially over this whole scene, "What do you want with us?"

"I'm sorry, Dean, I forgot you're playing catch up here. My name is Lady Toni Bevell of the British Men of Letters, London branch and I'm here…"

"Yeah, I got the memo! Aren't we supposed to be on the same team?" Dean barked.

"Not…quite," she cocked her head, caught off guard by his lack of surprise at her revelation. She quickly recovered, "We're here to put an end to your reckless endangerment of innocent lives. You and your brother are toxic to our line of work, Winchester. We're hoping to reach out to any worthy hunters in this country who can help us salvage some kind of order out of the mess you've been making for years."

"You're joking, right?" Dean said, with a laugh, "Who the hell are you to come over here…."

"Concerned people with the skills _and_ the duty to protect future victims from your incompetence," Toni interrupted, angrily, "I really don't have time for long winded explanations. I've suffered long enough in your brother's company and I don't have the patience to start all over with you. Just answer my questions and let's end this while you and your brother still have a chance…."

The ringing of her mobile phone interrupted her rant. Toni put up a finger and said, "Hold that thought!" as she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled it out.

"Mick, I'm surprised to hear from you! I've got the Winchesters…don't be stupid, I've almost broken them….If you would just leave me be….Look, I've got a job to do and I don't have time for you or the Counsel second guessing every decision that I….When I've gotten my answers, I'll be happy to accept your apology….Goodbye Mick!"

Dean noticed how shaken Toni looked as she hung up. "Lover's quarrel?" he asked, snidely.

"No, just a difference of opinion about how we should proceed in this country and with you. Now, where were we?"

"We were at the part where you drop your weapons and step away from my sons!" a cold voice, came from behind them.

They all looked up the stairs to see Mary pointing two guns in their direction, one pointed at Toni and the other at Jeremy.

"Sons?" Toni was genuinely surprised, "Mary….Winchester? How is this possible?"

"Let's call it divine intervention. Right now, I need you to move your ass or we're going to see whether or not you bleed blue!"

"Jeremy?" Toni turned to him expectantly.

He didn't even move half a step before he wasn't a lump on the floor, Mary having dropped him with a shot to his left knee cap.

"Try moving again, Junior and you'll never walk without a cane again!" she taunted, training both guns on Toni now, "And you? I've had just about enough of you. Move!"

Toni began walking towards Mary, who shouted "Far enough!" to her once she'd moved a few feet away from Sam. Dean rushed to free Sam, then realised that the chains that held him were padlocked.

"Keys," he growled at Toni who looked back at him haughtily.

"You can use your teeth for all I care, Dean."

"What are you, five?" he replied, disgust in his voice as he walked to Jeremy and took back his own gun. "Thanks for holding onto it for me, Jeremy. Sammy, hold your arms out behind you!"

Dean moved back to his brother, shooting the lock and helping Sam off the floor.

"Hold on, little brother," he whispered, as he wrapped Sam's arm around his shoulders, "Cass is outside so he's going to fix you right up."

"Actually, I'm right here!" Castiel was suddenly standing behind Mary, another man next to him.

"Cass?" Dean asked, warning in his voice as he eyed this potential new threat.

"It's all right, Dean," the angel replied, "This is Mick Davies of the British Men of Letters….."

"I'll take it from here, Castiel," Mick said, patting Castiel on the shoulder. "I want to start off by apologising to you all. Lady Bevell and I have different attitudes where making first impressions is concerned."

"You don't speak for me, Mick!" Toni sneered, as she glared at Sam and Dean.

"And that's a pity because I _do_ speak for the rest of our organisation- the one you swore an allegiance to, Toni." He sounded like he was scolding a toddler. To the rest of the room, he said, "I'm sure Lady Bevell has shared the basics with you. We wanted to learn more about the two of you, given that you are the last surviving members of the Men of Letters here in the U.S."

"Yeah, well your sales pitch needs work," Sam coughed, wincing with pain.

Castiel walked down the stairs and approached Sam, concern on his face. The angel touched his fingers to the younger Winchester's forehead, the bright, white light of his healing grace blinding all of them for a second.

"Thanks Cass," Sam sighed with relief, cracking his neck and stretching his limbs. Cass nodded in acknowledgement and turned a stony glare on Lady Bevell, looking for all intents and purposes like he might attack her at any moment.

Dean touched Cass on the shoulder to help gentle the angel's stance and then turned to address Mick.

Mary beat him to it. "So exactly what makes you a better ambassador than Emma Peel over there?" she asked, placing one of her guns in her waistband but keeping the other trained on Toni.

"Well, you'll get no argument from me that Lady Bevell went too far and we'll take her back to London where she'll face the appropriate consequences. I deeply apologise for all of this and I would like to extend an olive branch. We want to work with you." Mick's tone was completely reasonable and genial, something which caused Dean to laugh.

"You know, if you're having a hard time being civil about this, we could talk about my colleague Ms. Watt…..," Mick threatened, mildly.

"What are you talking about?" Toni interjected, though she was ignored.

"Hey, that bitch came after _us_ and….!" Dean's hostility ramped immediately up to a ten and Mick threw up his hands in supplication.

"So, uh, Mick is it?" Sam said, trying to bring tensions down a notch, "With all evidence to the contrary, what's supposed to make us believe anything you say?"

"Let's be honest, boys, if I'd _really_ wanted you dead, you wouldn't be here having this conversation right now. As you recall, we know where you live. The protections on your Bunker are impressive to be sure, but I believe it took Toni's men maybe 45 minutes before they broke through them. If I'd been the one taking Toni's approach, I would have ripped you from your beds and forced the information out of you right there. Instead, I've come to you, unarmed with hat in hand to apologise. Your angel, here, is a formidable weapon in your arsenal, and yet I even powered down the wards so he could join us. I think that my motives are quite transparent, don't you?" Mick retorted, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

"I think that politely veiled threats are still threats even if they _are_ delivered with an English accent," Castiel's deadpan response caused Mary to smile inwardly, despite the seriousness of the situation. The angel was really beginning to grow on her.

"Here's my number," Mick walked down to Mary, handing her a business card, "Take your time, cool down and think it over. I think we could really help each other. All we ask, is that you give us another chance to prove to you that an alliance with us can be mutually beneficial."

Mary glared at him but took the card and put it in the pocket of her shirt.

"We're leaving now," she said, turning back to glare at Toni, "If I were you, bitch, I wouldn't let us cross paths again. Next time I might forget Mick's proposed "spirit of cooperation' and just end you!"

Toni stared back stonily, refusing to be intimidated as Sam, Dean and Castiel walked past her to the stairs. Twenty minutes later, Team Winchester was back on the road on the way to the Bunker.

* * *

"This must be very difficult for you. I remember my first moments on Earth. It was jarring," Castiel's gruff voice filled the car. He sat next to Mary in the back seat of the Impala; Dean and Sam front. They were fifteen minutes away from Lebanon.

"That's one word for it. I grew up with Hunters. I've heard of people coming back from the dead before but to actually do it... after 30 odd years. A lot's changed," Mary replied, softly. The two began talking about some of the world events that she's missed, Castiel only too happy to share his knowledge with a person he was quickly beginning to admire.

"I'm glad that you're still here, Dean," Sam said quietly, looking over at his brother.

"I could say the same about you," his brother replied, a tired smile on his face.

"What happened?" Sam asked, "How did you not..die?"

"At the end, Amara and Chuck…..they were just like any other siblings having a family squabble."

"Yeah, a squabble that almost took out the sun and this planet," Sam scoffed.

"I know," Dean agreed, "but I think they were just as tired of all the death and destruction of the past few months as we were. When they were just face to face, you know, they just…. talked it out. It was some old-fashioned, honest to goodness, chick flicking, heart to hearting. They decided to go on a _family vacation_ to work on it."

"Really?" Sam asked incredulously, "After almost destroying existence itself they just talked it out and went to Baja?"

"Celestial beings, am I right?"

"And what about Mom?" Sam whispered, so she couldn't hear, "How did this happen?"

Dean glanced in the rear view mirror and paused to ensure that his mother was otherwise occupied. She and Castiel were talking about the Macarena of all things. He stuck out his tongue in disgust and looked at Sam.

"It was Amara's idea actually. Said she wanted to give me what I needed most like I'd given to her. Then next thing I knew, I ran into Mom. It was like time hadn't passed for her, Sam." Dean's eyes flickered back to the road before he continued, "She was still wearing the same…the same nightgown she was wearing the night…"

"I get it," Sam said, quietly.

An uncomfortable silence fell over them. Sam looked over at Dean after a few minutes, seeing his incessant fidgeting and knowing there was something else. There was _always_ something else.

"Just tell me, Dean," he said, knowing his brother sometimes needed a gentle nudge in the right direction.

Dean looked over at him uncertainly and waited a few moments before sighing.

"Chuck decided to leave me a parting gift too…," he started, looking like he was trying to find the right words.

"Which was?" Sam offered impatiently when Dean seemed like he was never going to finish his thought.

"You remember Lydia?" Dean whispered, checking the rear view mirror again. Castiel was showing Mary something on his phone.

"Lydia the Amazon?" Sam asked bewildered. He couldn't imagine what…"Oh my God! Emma?" he wheezed in shock, "Dean, she's dangerous. She's…"

"…a baby," Dean said flatly, the look in his eyes daring his brother to argue, "She's my baby girl and she's at the Bunker right now with Claire watching her. Chuck said he changed a few things about her. I gotta believe her need to kill me would have been on the top of his priority list."

"And if it's not?" Sam asked worriedly, knowing from experience that his stubborn brother wouldn't be seeing reason right now.

"I guess we'll find out first hand how the whole 'Nature versus Nurture' debate plays out right in our own home…."

"Dean…," Sam rebuked mildly, his brother's glib comment irritating.

"…I have to, Sammy. I know what you thought before…but she _is_ mine."

Sam stared at his brother sympathetically and guiltily at the same time. He looked in the rear view mirror at his mother and Castiel for a long while and came to a decision. These people were his family and regardless of how she came to be, little Emma was also a member of Team Winchester. God and his sister had given Mary a second chance, so he had to believe that the same held for Dean and his daughter also. Sam half turned in his seat and put a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"I'm happy for you," he said, a genuine smile on his face now, as the notion of being someone's uncle flitted through his mind, "We can do this together."

Dean looked back at him and let out a deep breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding "Thanks man!"

Sam nodded and they both went back to staring out of the windshield in silence, the sound of Mary and Castiel's 'intense' discussion filling the car. They were talking about computers and Castiel was regaling Mary with tales that proved all the ways that those 'demon boxes' were shifty.

"Do you hear that?" Dean whispered to Sam, a grin on his face as he listened to the two in the back seat, "From what I've heard so far, it looks like I'm stuck with you, King of the Nerds, to help me teach Emma about pop-culture. It's like two Siris talking to each other back there."

"What's a Siri?" Mary asked, overhearing Dean's last comment.

"I know her," Castiel piped in earnestly, "She's the woman from the Apple Company that runs my phone."

Dean looked askance at Sam who tried his best not to laugh when he corrected Castiel. He waited for Mary and Castiel to restart their conversation before he asked Dean, "So what do you plan to do? I'm pretty sure that those two will be spending a lot of time with Emma. How are you gonna stop them from influencing how _fly_ she is…."

"Did you just say, _fly_?" Dean sputtered, glancing over at Sam with disgust, "What is this, 1993?"

"Hey, you'll be losing out on two-thirds of your babysitters if you won't leave Emma with them," Sam grinned, enjoying Dean's overreaction.

"Actually, like I said, Claire's at the Bunker with her now so it's more like half. Besides, chances are she'll be fully grown soon and then she can learn all she needs to know from the best nanny there is," Dean replied cheerfully.

"I don't think any of your hookups is likely to sign on for kid duty, Dean," Sam remarked sarcastically with a smirk.

Dean glared at the overgrown Gigantor next to him, praying for patience. "You met her before- last year, when Castiel was recuperating," he replied smugly, enjoying the look of confusion on Sam's face.

"What? Who?" Sam stared back at him, bewildered.

"Two words, Sam- _Net_ …. _Flix_ "

* * *

It was early evening when they got back to the Bunker. Dean made a beeline for Claire and Emma, who were currently sitting in the reading alcove overlooking the Map Room. Claire was entertaining Emma with excerpts from a book about werewolves, reading rather vivid passages with an overly-exuberant, animated face and voice that had Emma laughing hysterically.

Sam and Dean headed up to them, Dean's whole demeanor exuding his pride when he introduced his little girl to her uncle. Claire snickered in amusement at the petrified look on Sam's face as he held Em for the first time. He kept asking if he was holding her head correctly and saying that he didn't think he was doing it right. Dean told him to stop tittering like a little girl- then apologised to the two little girls in front of him for the insult.

When he, himself, took Emma into his own arms, she stared up at her daddy with that look she reserved especially for him. She closed her eyes after a few moments and then fell asleep.

"It's like she's just waiting for you to get home," Claire said, impressed by the way Dean had taken to Emma so easily, "How do you do that?"

Dean smiled at Claire and smirked as he answered, "I used to do the same for little Sammy. Fed him, burped him, wiped his…"

"Yeah, okay, you're older than all of us, we know," Sam interrupted, a hint of embarrassment in his voice.

Claire grinned at them and then she noticed the blood all over their clothes.

"Are you two okay?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," Dean answered looking down at his shirt, "Can you take Emma so we can go clean up?"

"Sure," she replied, her curiosity now peaked, "Are you guys gonna tell me exactly what you've been doing for the past two days? Or better yet, the details about how your Mom is still alive and…"

"We will," Sam answered quickly, "but right now, I'm beat and I need to take a shower, put on some clean clothes and eat a cheeseburger…"

"Now you're speaking my language," Dean handed Emma over to Claire, "And I didn't forget that you wanted to talk to me. Later ok?"

Claire looked slightly disappointed but didn't hesitate to agree.

"I'll go put Emma in her crib," she said, preceding them down the stairs and to the living quarters. Mary had already gone to her room to change and Castiel, at his own suggestion, had gone to pick up some food from Biggerson's. Dean had been surprised but ravenous so he just thanked the angel and didn't question it any further. Ten minutes later they were all sitting in the kitchen, enjoying as many high calorie foods as they could stand. Castiel had even brought a still-warm apple pie for Dean who attacked it with a vengeance even after having already inhaled two cheeseburgers and extra-large fries.

"So, do you still like pie?" Mary asked with a laugh, watching her eldest in amusement.

Dean didn't really have a chance to reply, given that he'd just shovelled the rest of a huge slice into his mouth.

Sam looked away from Dean, disgust on his face turning to stare covertly at his mother. They ate in silence for a bit longer when Mary said, "Sam, you keep looking at me like I'm going to explode."

Sam smiled and said quietly, "I'm sorry. I…I just can't believe you're here."

She placed her hand on his and squeezed, "So, are we buying Mick's whole 'Let's be friends' routine? "

"After the way my first play-date turned out with Toni, I'm gonna have to say no. No way," Sam answered immediately, finishing up the last of his beer.

"Who's Mick?" Claire asked, her eyes widening in interest. Finally she was going to get some of the details.

"I don't think Claire needs to know the…." Castiel eyebrows furrowed, not wanting to drag her into this any further. Babysitting for a few days until they had retrieved Sam was one thing, but getting her involved with the British Men of Letters was dangerous and he wanted her back in Sioux Falls with Jody and Alex, as soon as possible.

Claire glared at Castiel, quick to anger at what she perceived to be his continued over-protectiveness, "I don't know how you keep forgetting this, _Castiel_ , but your name is _not_ , nor has it ever _been_ , Jimmy Novak. You are NOT the father! No eres mi papa- how many other ways do you need me to say it? Do I need to learn Enochian for you to…!"

"Hey!" Sam and Dean admonished simultaneously, both seeing the effect of Claire's vitriol on their friend.

Claire stood up abruptly from the table, her venom now turning on them, "Of course you take his side! Why am I not surprised?"

"Claire!" Dean growled, getting angry now. He'd been sure that they were past all of this during their time back in Fall River two years ago. Obviously, something was eating at her and he cursed himself for not having found the time to hear her out since she'd gotten to the Bunker.

Dean's tone halted her rant and she quickly looked embarrassed and uncomfortable with the four pairs of eyes that were now trained on her. A wail coming from the baby monitor suddenly broke the tension. No one moved for a moment but then Mary stood up and muttered something about going to see to Emma. She left the room and Claire hugged herself, unsure what to do next.

Dean was still staring at Claire, his look one of disappointment, irritation and sternness.

Castiel stood up, the rejection somehow evident in the very way he held himself.

"I…have to go see a man about a guitar," he announced to the group, though looking at Claire with a pained expression.

"Cass…," Sam started but the angel had already disappeared.

Claire stared at the table for a moment, refusing to meet their eyes. She'd screwed up and she knew it. She _had_ forgiven Castiel for the most part-, well 99% at least- but right now, with what she'd been going through recently she couldn't afford to get the Winchesters offside. And she wasn't oblivious to the fact that Castiel's dogged belief that he was the closest thing to a father she would ever had, was sincere. In her mind, that ship had sailed a long time ago; she had her future to think of now and angering Dean and Sam was not going to help her achieve that.

Sam excused himself after a minute, leaving the other two alone. Dean looked at her for a few seconds more and then told her to sit down. She waited a beat before sat next to him and he turned to face her.

"I'm grateful that you came and helped me out with Emma. We were in a jam and you really came through. Claire….I.."

"I'm sorry, Dean," Claire was remorseful, "I didn't mean to.. I….I've been going through…."

"You should be saying that to Cass," Dean cut in, trying to tamp down his rekindling anger, "You know, family cares about you. Family is there for the good, the bad- all of it. They got your back, even when it hurts. _That's_ family. Sam, Me, Cass, my Mom, Emma- we're family. You, Jody, Alex.. you're our family too. So tell me, do you think he deserved any of that?"

"Uh, look Dean..."

"Answer me, Claire!"

Claire stayed silent for a moment. "No," she replied quietly.

Dean could see tears forming in her eyes when she finally looked up. They stared at each other for a minute and then he sighed, "I'm heading down to the garage. Gotta go take a look at Baby. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

Claire nodded and quickly excused herself to her room.

He'd managed to temper his tone considerably, seeing how contrite Claire was being. He figured he'd made his point anyway. To be honest, he was still a little angry but he didn't want to let himself go overboard either. Claire had a hard time with authority figures but for some reason, even though she groused at them a lot, she really responded to himself and Sam. He'd get to the bottom of what was going on with her tomorrow when he was calmer.

* * *

Sam knocked on the door and opened it when he heard the soft, "Come in."

His mother was sitting on her bed, reading a book. She quickly put it down on her far side and turned to greet him.

"How's Emma?" he asked from the doorway.

"She's sleeping…like a baby," Mary smiled and waved him in.

"Uh, am I disturbing you? I actually thought you'd be asleep by now," he said coming in and pulling up a chair to sit next to her.

"Not yet. I'm still feeling on edge after today," she smiled, patting his arm.

"Yeah, I know the feeling," he chuckled, though sobering quickly. "Uh, I wanted to say... if you ever want to talk, I know what it's like to come back to this and not feel like you really fit."

Mary nodded. "I just have so much to catch up on with you two boys. Mother stuff, you know? First tooth, first crush, Emma's mother, how Castiel became so close to you….."

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

"It's just so overwhelming….I don't really know where to start…"

"Right, uh... about that. I have something that might help," Sam pulled his father's journal from under his arm and handed it to Mary.

"This is Dad's journal. It has a lot of his thoughts about hunting and about…a lot of other things. It's helped me fill in some blanks over the years. And, most importantly, it, sort of, uh, keeps him with us."

"Thank you, Sammy," she said.

"Good night, Mom," he said, liking the sound of the hated nickname when it came from her.

He got up and returned the chair, about to leave the room when she said, "Dean said you got out of hunting."

Sam put his hand in his pockets, bracing himself. "Yeah?" he answered.

"And yet here you are."

"Well, in this family, we hunt things, you know? It's what we do," Sam realised that he sounded a little defensive and immediately felt ashamed.

His mother shook her head and looked at the journal.

"Mom," he said softly, "For me... just, um... having you here... fills in the biggest blank."

His eyes filled with tears as he walked towards her. She stood up straight into his open arms. They hugged for a minute and then he kissed the top of her head and left the room in search of Dean.

* * *

Sam found his brother in the garage, beating out the Impala's damaged panel, baby monitor on one side of his work bench and a small radio playing AC/DC softly on the far end. Dean looked like he was taking out a bit of pent up frustration on the sheet of metal and Sam knew that the talk he was hoping to have might not go down so smoothly.

Dean raised his chin in acknowledgement when Sam appeared at his side.

"How's it coming?" Sam asked, nodding towards the panel.

"Should have this done soon, then I'll get the sanding and base coat on tomorrow. How's it going up there?" Dean paused to look at Sam

"I saw Claire slink off to her room before I went in to check on Emma," Sam replied, "How'd it go?"

"Claire and I are gonna talk tomorrow when I don't feel like wringing her neck," Dean smiled grimly, "You know, she reminds me of you during your angsty teen years when you couldn't decide how much of a pain in the ass you wanted to be from day to day…"

"Jerk!" Sam scowled with narrowed eyes.

"Bitch!" Dean grinned and slapped his brother's shoulder amicably.

They shared a companionable silence for a few moments before Sam started again.

"I just wanted to say that I'm really happy for you. Really. Having Emma here, having a chance at a life beyond hunting…..it's something I never thought we'd have, you know? I mean, you had Lisa and Ben and I had Amelia…we had snapshots of what it could be like. But with Em, your daughter….man, there's no take backs. She's yours…"

"Ours," Dean corrected, a small smile on his face.

"…I'm grateful you can say that after what I did the first time…"

"Sammy….she was about to try to kill me. I understand what you did. Please don't beat yourself up about trying to save my life. We've just gotta accept the fact that we'll always try to save the other, no matter what. But that little girl up there? She's my shot, you know? My way to atone for everything I've ever done. Raising her right, seeing her grow up, knowing that when we're gone, there'll still be a Winchester …."

"You're planning on teaching her how to hunt?" Sam raised his eyebrows, surprised.

Dean contemplated the question for a second, "I don't really know. Right now, I gotta see what happens. Last time she aged every three days or so and by the end of the week she was trying to kill me. I gotta believe that Chuck wouldn't let that happen to me again otherwise Emma'll be the worst 'thank you' in the history of thank yous."

"It'll be okay, Dean," Sammy paused for a beat, "….about Mom…."

"Having her here is gonna be good for Emma. A strong female role model _and_ she's had two kids. Now I'll have help parenting you and Emma…."

"Oh ha, ha!" Sam rolled his eyes at his smirking brother.

"Hey man, it takes a village!" Dean replied with fake seriousness, shrugging his shoulders.

"What I _was_ going to say…," Sam said quickly before Dean could continue his poor attempt at stand up comedy, "…is that I don't know _what_ to feel about Mom being back. Obviously I never got to know her and now I look at her and all I feel is guilty because her death was my fault. I mean, she died trying to protect me….."

"No," Dean said, the look on his face hard and determined, "Our mother was a hunter- you know that. We met her when she was barely more than a kid, remember? And she was kicking ass and taking names even back then. _She_ made the deal with Azazel to save Dad's life and she paid the price. I made a deal with a Crossroads demon to save you and went to Hell for a year. You took on the trials because I made you feel like you'd let me down and it almost killed you….that's what we do in this family. It's built into our DNA….!"

Dean paused, knowing that his brother was still beating himself up. "Sam, we've gotta take this blessing for what it is. You need to get over it and enjoy getting to know Mom now."

"I realise that, Dean. That's obvious in my head, but actually figuring out how to do it…"

"Give it time, Sammy."

"Yeah," Sam nodded and looked over at the panel, "You should call it a night and get some sleep. We've had a pretty long haul recently- we've earned the R & R."

"I'm almost done, anyways," Dean wiped his hands on one of the rags on the bench, "Goodnight little brother."

"Goodnight, Dean."

Sam left the garage and stopped to check on the Bunker's other occupants. Claire was asleep in her room and his mother was in her room, sitting in the soft glow of a nightlight with an awake Emma in her arms. She was murmuring to the little girl who was staring up at her grandmother with a little smile on her face.

"You are so beautiful, little Em…," Mary said, tickling the baby's chin and making her giggle, "….but there's something different about you, isn't there? I know Daddy's friend wasn't human and I just can't imagine why he'd be the one bringing you to Dean…."

Sam closed the door before she spotted him. His brother was going to have to come clean with Mary about his daughter, soon. If she stayed true to her DNA, Emma would be twice her size in a day or two and then it would be too late. Sam wasn't sure how well their mother would take being excluded like that. He'd speak to Dean in the morning.

* * *

"You have to tell her soon, Dean," Sam was tired of Dean's seemingly nonchalant attitude, "Emma's likely going to force your hand anyway, so you may as well get ahead of it…"

"Get ahead of what?" Mary asked, walking into the library, book in hand.

Sam glared at his brother in exasperation when Dean quickly answered, "Nothing."

"Dean!"

"Shut up, Sam!"

"Is this about Emma?" Mary asked, seeing the angry look on Dean's face and making an educated guess.

"No!" "Yes!"

Her sons stared intensely at each other, the tension thick and uncomfortable. Mary stared between them and, seeing that Winchester-Campbell stubbornness beginning to set in, decided to jump in quickly to break the deadlock.

"I know that there's something different about her, Dean. She's not quite…human, right?" Mary may have only spent four years with Dean before she died in 1983, but she knew exactly how to read his facial expressions; she'd spent years seeing the same ones on both her father and John's faces.

"Mom.."

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" she asked, her tone wounded.

Dean looked away and sighed. He really wasn't ready for this conversation as much as he knew they'd have to have it eventually. Mary was a born and bred hunter. Dean had met his grandfather Samuel Campbell; a man deeply protective of his family, Sam's namesake had been singular in his mission to secure his daughter's resurrection via a deal made with Crowley. In the time that Dean had gotten to know him, his grandfather hadn't hidden his absolute abhorrence of Supernatural creatures one iota. Dean hated himself for it but, having watched his mother in action over the past few days, he couldn't help but feel that the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree. He, himself, had shared that point of view before meeting Benny, ironically, but had since learned to moderate his intolerance because life wasn't always black and white. Mary and Samuel had wanted to protect each other in the past, Dean wanted to do the same for _his_ child….even if that meant alienating his mother right now. Not that he was going to tell her that.

"Look Mom," he started, giving Sam a glower that promised retribution, "You just got back and with everything that's been happening with The Darkness and God, Sammy being gone and those British dicks…, there really hasn't been time for us to talk about…everything and I didn't want to rush a conversation about where Emma…"

"What _is_ she, Dean?" Mary knew her son was dissembling. It was time to just rip the Band-Aid off quickly.

Dean stopped talking, a little frustrated that his excuses hadn't worked.

"She's an Amazon," Sammy piped up, knowing that Dean's temper was about to get the best of him.

"What?" Mary exclaimed genuinely perplexed, "You mean like Wonder Woman?"

Sam smiled inwardly, wondering if his mother and brother realised just how alike they were.

"Well, the comics _are_ based on real lore so….." Sam replied, watching the mix of emotions that played on Dean's face. He knew Dean was going to make him pay for this, he just had no idea how painful it was going to be.

"I don't think my family ever encountered one before….," Mary mumbled, almost to herself.

"I met one named Lydia. We…spent the night together and Emma was the result. Her mother is out of the picture now and I'm all she has."

Though he was addressing his mother, Dean stared at Sam daring him to contradict this partial truth. The look in his brother's eyes told him all he needed to know; Sammy was finally going to back off and let him deal with telling their mother in his own time and in his own way.

"What happened to her?" Mary's eyes were piercing and Dean looked away.

He didn't _really_ want to lie to his mother but he felt an overwhelming need to protect his daughter's story for now.

"She died," Dean replied simply and then, "Look Mom, it doesn't really matter. Emma is my daughter and she needs me. There really isn't anything more to say."

"No… you're right, Dean," Mary nodded, averting her eyes, "Uh…look, I'm going to go take a drive up to Lawrence this morning. Thought I would take a look around the old place. I…I'll see you later!"

Mary spun around and walked swiftly from the room towards the garage. Dean and Sam stared after her for a beat, and then Dean looked at Sam accusingly.

"Really, Sam?" he said, the disappointment heavy in his tone, "I can't believe you did that!"

"Dean, you know that the longer you wait, the more difficult it's going to make things between you. Don't you get it? You're just like Mom and as I recall, you've hated any time that I've kept something from you." Sam knew that he had to do some damage control before his inevitable fight with Dean had a chance to get fully underway.

Sam's earnest tone, far from calming him, was grating on Dean's nerves. He hadn't really had time to process this whole thing for himself, yet. If Emma turned out to be more Amazon than Winchester, he had no idea how he was going to handle it. All of the fear, uncertainty and despair he'd felt over the past few days with the near end of the world, his brother's kidnapping and his mother and daughter's resurrections, had left him drained. As was his way, there was only one means to deal with situations like this, and that was gathering up all the unwanted emotions and channeling them into a fight instead. Unfortunately, Sam was a deserving and geographically convenient target right now.

"It wasn't your place Sam and you know it. _My_ relationship with _my_ mother is _my_ business…"

"Dean, I wasn't trying to…."

"I don't really care what you were trying to do, just stay out of it!" Dean snapped, then condescendingly, "Besides, I think I've had more experience dealing with our mother than you do..."

Dean knew that he'd scored a direct hit by the way his brother visibly recoiled. Sam's eyes reflected that hurt but rather than engage any further, he stood up from the table and walked away. Dean's self-righteous anger made him feel justified…initially, but then, as the repetitive task of sanding the metal panel gave him enough time to calm down and self-reflect, he had to acknowledge that he'd just been a major dick. With a huge sigh, he abandoned the garage and headed off to the kitchen. At times like these, the only thing that made him feel better was a glass of whiskey and a slice of pie.

* * *

"You realise, of course, that I don't _actually_ have to get on that plane," Toni hissed at Mick, looking back at the two goon enforcers that were steadily herding Jeremy and herself towards the tarmac, "My clearance is just as high as yours- you're my peer _not_ my superior- at least not _yet_. You think I don't know what you're doing? When my grandfather died, his seat on the Executive of our organisation was my mine to inherit! If you hadn't stuck your nose in and suggested that my _youth_ was some kind of hindrance….!"

"I _suggested_ that your inexperience might make you unqualified for the position, yes, but you will also recall that I offered this mission in the U.S. as a way for you to prove yourself to the Counsel. And what did you do? You were supposed to gain their trust not try to kill them!" Mick replied tersely.

"Have you even read their dossier? The Winchesters are almost worse than the things they hunt!"

"…They've also had their fair share of successes, Toni," Mick admonished with a tone that was entirely too condescending for Toni's liking.

She sneered when she shot back, "If our goal is to end the supernatural threat in this country, we need to destroy every obstacle. The Winchesters are one of the _biggest_ obstacles, Mick and you know that!"

"I've already taken steps to rectify the damage you've done. Mr. Ketch…."

"Mr. Ketch?" Toni exclaimed, completely astonished, "You'll release your psychopath on these 'good ole' boys', but I try to ask them a few direct questions and suddenly I'm sent to my room in disgrace? You're such a hypocrite, Mick! You'll do _anything_ to steal my birth right from me, won't you?"

They'd reached the steps of the Gulfstream G550 and Toni stopped to glare at him.

"Goodbye, Toni," Mick replied with a smirk.

With one last look, she boarded the plane, Jeremy following closely behind her. About ten minutes later, they were in the air. Toni stared out of the window, seething. She snapped at the flight attendant, Lucy, who offered her something to drink and held up her hand to stave off any subsequent comments from Jeremy. She turned to stare blankly through the partially open cockpit door, watching Lucy bringing the occupants water bottles. She couldn't believe what had just happened. Being made to run back to London after only a few days with her tail between her legs, was a humiliation that she would never be able to live down with the other Men of Letters, with her family and most importantly, with the Executive Counsel. She closed her eyes, her mind racing. She vaguely heard Jeremy flirting with Lucy, the tinkling of their wine glasses, the whirring of the engines, the voice of the pilot through the still open cockpit…..She opened her eyes and stared through the door. That voice! She fairly bolted out of her seat and approached them.

"Anthony?" she exclaimed with delight, "How are you?"

"Lady Bevell?" the pilot replied, startled, "I haven't seen you since you were ten years old! I didn't realise you were my passenger otherwise I would have come back there to say hello. Mr Davies just said we were taking some members back to London."

"I'm sure he just didn't think of it," Toni answered with a smile, "I was so sorry to hear about Alice."

"Thank you, Lady Bevell, after those years of watching my poor wife suffer, the end came quickly. I have to be thankful for that."

"It must be such a comfort to know that she's at peace and in a better place," Toni patted the Captain on the shoulder and he nodded, unshed tears forming in his eyes.

After a few minutes, she ventured on, "How long have you been back?"

"Only a few weeks," Anthony replied, getting himself back under control, "How've you been, Miss?"

"Actually, quite well…now" Toni's optimism was growing due to the plan forming in her mind, "I've just gotten some happy news. My mother's been very ill over the last few months and Mr. Davies came from London to carry on some work I was doing for the Council so I could go home to be with her because her condition worsened…."

"Lady Bevell, I'm so sorry!" Captain Anthony Keys had been the Bevell family's private pilot for twenty years before he'd had to take extended leave to care for his dying wife. Toni hadn't realised that he'd come back to work for the Men of Letters. She was banking on his family loyalty and how unlikely it was that the newly reinstated Captain Keys would have any idea about the Counsel recalling her to London.

"Well, I just found a missed text and got some happy news. My mother's rallied and is doing much better. Of course, I want to rush back to her side anyways but Father tells me she's adamant that I stay and finish my work. I won't need to go back to London now but I _could_ use a ride to New York to follow up on some leads…"

Anthony didn't even hesitate, "That's wonderful news, Lady Bevell, I'd be happy to. I'll just let Mr. Davies know about our change of plans and….."

"…I've already emailed him," Toni replied quickly, almost too quickly. "He knew this was only temporary anyway. Now he can get on with his own mission and I'll just pick up where I left off."

The captain and co-pilot looked at each other. Lady Bevell's great, great, grandfather had been one of the founding members of the British Men of Letters and her family's influence had spread far and wide across Europe ever since- across monarchies, governments, the military- through every corridor of power across the pond and beyond. _Requests_ from her were really orders and there was no way that Anthony, as a member ever dedicated to her family, would take them as anything else.

"We'll radio the tower and make it happen," the first officer piped in, receiving a nod from the Captain in return.

"Thank you both," she responded with a genuine smile.

"You go sit down, Lady Bevell, we'll have our new flight path in no time." The Captain patted her hand and Toni turned back to the cabin.

Jeremy cocked his head questioningly as Toni approached him, a huge grin on her face. Lucy had gone by this time and Jeremy had obviously been listening to the exchange in the cockpit.

"What are you doing?" he muttered, when Toni dropped into her seat.

"Getting us back on track," she whispered, her tone triumphant, "I've gotten them to take us to New York. By the time Mick realises what we've done, we'll be long gone from there. We've got work to do and those two buffoons are the key to everything."

"Okay, I'm in," Jeremy nodded, "Where do we start?"

"Glad you asked..," Toni smirked, "…because we need to talk about Mary Winchester."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** **Sorry this took a while. I did a lot of rewrites for this chapter during two very intense weeks at work. It ended up being 33 pages long! Needless to say, I'm breaking it into a few parts to make it easier to read. The next part or Chapter 6 will be coming your way this weekend. Thanks for sticking with me!**

 **Chapter 5**

Dean couldn't say that she wasn't persistent. Claire had been after him for the past hour and she wasn't showing any signs of slowing down.

It was mid-afternoon the next day and Dean had just finished putting the finishing touches on Baby. He'd been holed up (read: hiding out) working on the Impala since 0600. After putting Emma down for a lunchtime nap, Claire had strode purposefully into the garage like she was gearing up for a fight. She'd asked Dean if he was ready to have their talk and with the look on her face, he'd known that he wasn't going to like what she had to say. He'd been right.

Apparently, Claire was finding it increasingly difficult to live in Sioux Falls. Between Alex's 'bids for sainthood' and Jody's over-enthusiastic attempts at 'playing Mom', Claire was in the final stages of planning her escape and she had no intention of _ever_ going back.

"You don't get it, Dean," Claire started pacing agitatedly, "I've always been the third wheel in that house and I can't do it anymore. And before you say anything, I know you thought we'd already settled this last year, but things really suck right now. Jody keeps trying to play peace-keeper but even _she's_ starting to give up. Two days ago, she got two tickets to a Coldplay concert outta the blue and told me that it was Alex's idea. It was pretty obvious to me though that _Miss Perfect_ only agreed to go because Jody asked her to. It made me feel like some kind of charity case! Let's just say by the time we got there, I was already pissed off. I think we lasted 20 minutes before we had a fight over my drin…uh something silly…."

"Over your what?" Dean asked, noting how she suddenly averted her eyes when she'd corrected herself.

"It doesn't matt.."

"Claire!"

"Drinking, okay!" Claire stopped moving and threw up her hands in frustration, "I was at this lame concert with Alex, 'the professional teenaged kiss-ass,' and I needed something to calm me down. But of course, she couldn't help herself and started lecturing me like I was the worst kind of screw up and she was on some mission to help me turn my life around….so I lost it! We ended up getting dragged outta there by Security. The bitch took the car and left me there so by the time I got home, she'd already poisoned Jody against me- she never even let me tell my side! So right now, I'm supposed to be grounded for 2 weeks! I'm like, 20 years old, Dean! When Cass came over to find some help for you and Emma, I was already about to pack up and get out of there. It seemed like a win-win so, here I am. Besides, I figured it was my civic duty to protect a poor, defenseless baby from you two…"

"You're not 21 _yet_..." Dean started, feeling obligated to give a hypocritical lecture about underaged drinking. Not that Claire let him get away with that.

"Oh spare me, Dean!" she spat with a look of pure derision on her face, "You practically live at the bottom of a bottle…." She stopped when she saw the scary look on his face and averted her eyes quickly. When she dared to look at him again, his expression hadn't changed and she wasn't brave enough to speak again, even to offer up an apology.

Dean let her squirm for a bit longer. He knew she wasn't exactly wrong but no one liked being called on their own bullshit. And frankly, after her scene with Cass yesterday, he'd had enough of her thoughtless lashing out at the people who cared about her. Aside from that, it was always disturbing to have one's faults thrown back in your face.

"Sooooo…you were planning on getting out of there…?" Dean prompted, his voice much calmer than he felt.

Claire sighed before she started again. "Look, I'm the 'bad seed', okay? I _own_ that but I've already had a mother, Dean, and it didn't work out so well the first time…"

"Claire," Dean began sympathetically, but she held up her hand to stop him from going down that path. After a bit, he tried again, "I appreciate your coming to _save_ Emma…," Dean used her joke to try to lighten the mood a little, "..but you can't just _run away_ from home and join our circus. You got a good gig going at Jody's- you and Alex mean everything to her. She's trying her best but you gotta meet her halfway…..

"You're not listening, Dean!" Claire snapped in frustration, causing Dean to glare at her, "I'm done! I'm not going back…period! I've decided that it's time I got serious about being a hunter…. so, I've been thinking that I…I need some help because…."

"Claire…" Dean grumbled, already knowing where she was taking this.

"….I can't learn everything on my own, I know that, but I don't have my own network of hunters to call on. Turns out that I don't need one because I happen to know two brothers that…"

"What about college?"

"Come on, Dean! I appreciate the fake vote of confidence and all..," Claire replied sarcastically, "..but we _both_ know I'm not smart enough for that. You're starting to sound like the tall one.."

" _Sam_ is right," Dean interrupted, not really liking her self-deprecation, then he smirked, "but if you tell him I said so, I'll deny it."

"Dean!"

"All right!" he held up a hand to forestall whatever she was about to argue, "Tell me what you want."

"Well," Claire was suddenly all business, "The way I figure, we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. You've got Emma now and you're gonna need someone to help take care of her when you, Sam and your Mom go out hunting, right? So, what if I stay here and be your live-in babysitter and in exchange, you and Sam will teach me enough about hunting that I can go out on my own?"

"Absolutely not!" another voice said firmly from behind them.

Claire and Dean turned to see Sam entering the garage, two beers in his hand. He walked over to Dean whose eyes narrowed at him initially, but once Sam handed him a bottle with a side helping of puppy-dog eyes, all was forgiven. They hadn't talked since their argument over Emma the previous night, but in this family, nothing said "I'm sorry" like the gift of a cold brew.

"Sam, you don't even know…"

"I heard enough to know that the answer is: you're going to school," Sam replied sternly, shaking his head.

"Actually…give us a minute," Dean said, holding up a finger and jerking his head towards the back of the garage.

Sam followed him and they turned to each other, speaking in hushed tones.

"Look Dean, about Mom…."

"Sam," Dean shook his head, "I get it, okay, and I'm not saying that it wasn't a bitch move, but you were trying to get me to do the right thing so…..it's done, okay?"

Sam nodded, relieved. He turned back to glance at Claire who was staring back at them nervously.

"What about Claire?"

"She and Alex have been going at it. Got kicked out of a Coldplay concert for fighting…more like divine intervention, if you ask me. _Coldplay_? Am I right?" Dean smirked for a second, before he stopped abruptly at Sam's deadpan expression, "Anyway, we both know that Claire's got some skills, but she's about to run off to play hunter on her own and she's nowhere near ready. She's gonna get herself killed and I don't want to have to explain that to Jody, do you?"

"Yeah, not so much," Sam nodded.

"Look, we're going to start going out on hunts again soon and with those British scumbags in play, breaking into the Bunker and all, I'd feel better having someone I trust looking after Em. They can't find out about her, Sam."

Sam exhaled and nodded slightly.

Dean paused before sighing himself. "Besides, I'm still not sure where Mom's head's at yet. I think Emma being here goes against every instinct she's ever had …."

"Okay, Dean," Sam raised his hand, finally convinced, "But Claire's gotta do this our way. You know how big a chip she has on her shoulder. She's almost as stubborn as you on your worst day…."

"What's the verdict, Big and Tall?" Claire was tired of being left out of a conversation that determined _her_ future.

"Yeah, we are," Dean replied with a glower as they walked over to the smirking teenager and adopted intimidating stances- legs wide and arms crossed.

"Here's how this is gonna work. I'm gonna pay you ten bucks an hour. No boys, no parties, no exploring or touching anything in the Bunker when we're not here. Half this stuff hasn't even been seen since 1958 and I don't want you or Emma getting hurt."

"First off, Dean, what century do you think this is?" Claire was actually amused, "Try fifty an hour and I want one of these cars and…"

Dean guffawed a 'No' before she could finish her sentence.

Sam interrupted before she could start to argue, "Listen, ten dollars an hour is really going to add up over a 24 hour period so maybe we can keep the rate as is, okay? In return, we'll train you during the downtime between hunts but you're going to have to do exactly what we tell you, deal?"

Claire crossed her arms and looked at each of them in turn.

" _Well, we're waiting_ ," Dean smiled, Claire narrowing her eyes and studying him, "And if you could throw in one of those baked chickens every once in a while…"

" _Uh,_ _you'll get nothing and like it_!" she replied, playing along.

"What're the two of you going on about?" Sam asked mildly annoyed as he glanced back and forth between them.

"I _knew_ you'd like it!" Dean shouted, pointing an accusing finger at a grinning Claire.

"Hey, you told me to watch the Babysitting movie and I liked it so I figured I'd finally watch your Caddyshack DVD. Let's just say that the next time you have a movie suggestion, I might sorta be open to watching it with you."

"Movie night it is!" Dean said enthusiastically.

"Everyone good?" Sam asked, ignoring Dean and Mini-Dean's pop-culture ping-pong match.

"Almost," Claire said, sobering quickly, "I wanna go on hunts with you guys. I'm never going to learn if I don't watch you on the job…"

"We'll talk about that later- _after_ you prove to us that we can trust you to listen…"

"Okay Sam, as long as you keep your word," Claire cocked her head, eyebrows raised in challenge.

"Deal!" Dean agreed. He shook hands with her just as Mary pulled into the garage.

The three stopped talking and watched as she parked the green convertible and came over to them.

"How was your trip?" Sam asked brightly, pretending there was no reason for awkwardness.

"Confronting," Mary replied, with a pained smile.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Sam rested a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Maybe later," she replied gratefully, patting his hand in return, "Actually, I came back early because I think I found a case."

"In Lawrence?" Dean asked in surprise.

"No, on the way back. I stopped for a bite to eat and bought a few newspapers. There's been a couple of deaths in the past week in Bennett County, Nebraska- a local doctor and a live-in nanny, both with ties to a family named the Billdons. The 11 year old boy, Stevie Billdon drowned in the family pool 2 years ago. I goggled the intranet and found a locally-based news blog that has a rather unique perspective on life in that town. It claims that a year after the boy's death, his father, Geoff Billdon Jr., heir to the 235 million dollar Billdon Nurseries' fortune, killed himself due to guilt-apparently he woke up after a night of heavy drinking to find the boy face down floating in the water and never got over it…"

"I think you mean _googled the internet_ ," Sam piped in with a smile.

"So far, this all sounds like just a bunch of unfortunate circumstances. Where's the case?" Dean interjected, placing his arms across his chest.

Sam stared at Dean, knowing that his brother's passive aggressiveness had more to do with Dean's own insecurities about his new relationship with their mother. He was so ready to get defensive about Emma that he was taking every word she said as a challenge. As he was wont to do, Sam found himself playing peacekeeper. "I'm sure Mom was just getting to that," he said, nodding at Mary encouragingly.

Mary glanced between her sons for a moment, the look on her face suddenly unsure and Sam cursed Dean in his head. Before he could say anything else though, Mary answered, "You're right, Dean. Geoff Billdon is survived by his second wife of 3 years, Jennifer and her step-daughter, 8 year old Gracie, who's apparently been sick for the past 10 months. What makes it a case is that the two who've died in the last week both claimed to have seen Stevie's ghost within the hour preceding their deaths. There's a statement from local law enforcement- a Sheriff Raine, and I quote, "There's no foul play here and that crap about ghosts is just as crazy as you are!"

"Really?' Sam asked with a laugh, "Clearly the local P.D. have great respect for the local media."

Mary nodded in reply and continued, "So earlier this week, one of the deceased, Dr. Katt, was found face down in his bed, drowned in his own vomit with two empty bottles of 70 proof vodka next to him. He was the Billdon family doctor for 20 years and was pretty well respected back in his day- delivered half the babies in the county, apparently. His practice had all but dried up in the last few years though. The official story was that he was getting older and looking to retire, but the _real_ story is that he's been a closet drunk for decades- particularly worse in the past three years. Then two days ago, the Billdon's live-in nanny, Robin, died in a car accident 50 miles from the Billdon house. Slammed head on into a tree at 80 miles per hour…"

"They put all _that_ stuff on the website?" Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"No, I called the editor of the blog, Betty. She seemed more like a town gossip than some cutting edge' True Crime' reporter- more than willing to share the town's dirty laundry with me. So Betty said that the doctor called his daughter in Tallahassee in a drunken stupor and begged her forgiveness for all the wrong he'd done. About 20 minutes later, he called her back and told her that Stevie had visited him, glowing like an angel. She was pretty worried about him and called 911. By the time the deputies got there, he was dead. With the nanny, her sister Nancy said that Robin called her from the road in a panic saying she needed help and had something to tell her. The last thing she heard Robin say was Stevie's name and then, well, the accident….."

"So basically you're thinking vengeful spirit," Dean said, with a nod.

"Pretty much," Mary agreed, "Apart from the stepmother and Gracie, the only other family left is Daniel Billdon, Geoff's brother. He's been M.I.A. for years apparently; had a falling out with his brother years ago over Jennifer Billdon and just left. Betty didn't seem to have many more details about him."

"Sounds like a case to me!" Sam piped in, with a little more exuberance than the situation warranted.

Dean rolled his eyes inwardly and turned back to his mother, "Look Mom, you just got back. Are you sure you should be doing this? You're the one who didn't want to be a part of this life anymore."

"Hey, I'm happy to take the Von Trapps on the road," Sam kept his tone enthusiastic, hoping to cut through the obvious tension.

Dean stared at Sam for a beat, like he was trying to decide whether to play along or not, and then he said, "The Von Trapps? More like The Partridge Family…okay, let's pack it up and meet back here in 10."

Sam and Mary agreed and started for the stairs with Claire and Dean bringing up the rear.

"Claire," Dean said quietly, "The people who took Sam walked right into this Bunker like we left them a spare key under a 'Welcome' mat. Don't let anyone in here while we're gone- _no one_. We're going to beef up the warding and security for this place once we get back. Right now, I need you to come with me, I have something to show you."

"Okay," Claire replied, intrigued.

Dean led them up to the back corner of the library where a recessed wall of books, files and artifacts was situated; two leather chairs in front of it. Claire looked at Dean expectantly as he moved to stand on an anti-demon sigil that was on the floor beside one of the chairs. He the pushed aside one of the photos on the wall to reveal a small fingerpad.

"Come over here," Dean said and Claire walked over to him.

Dean cut his finger with a knife he whipped out of his pocket and then had Claire do the same. They both put a single drop of blood on the pad and watched it disappear. Nothing happened at first but then the sigil on the floor began to glow and the whirring sound of moving gears erupted from behind the wall.

Claire gasped when the recessed part of the wall pulled further inward to reveal an opening and Dean gestured for her to proceed him in. On the left of the entrance, he threw a large switch handle, illuminating the hidden space with dozens of lights.

"It's a panic room, well, _rooms_ ," Dean explained seeing Claire's questioning expression, "There's a couple of bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchenette with a pantry holding six months' worth of food and water and a command center that's linked in with the controls that run the Bunker. Over there are the master switches- even if someone tries to destroy the system in the Map Room, these will keep the Bunker up and running through two underground backup generators. The place is fireproof and practically earthquake proof once the door is closed."

"This is amazing, Dean!" Claire was completely awe-struck, "What was up with the blood?"

"The door technically opens only for members of the American Men of Letters and their descendants but Sam managed to jury-rig it so that by mixing yours with mine, it'll recognize you and let you in. You're going to need to stand on the sigil and a give it a drop of blood to get in. You've got 5 seconds between the blood and the door closing automatically behind you. There's an old rotary phone over there and a CB radio 'cause you won't get a cell signal in here. If you're afraid or anyone gets into this building uninvited, I want you to take Emma and haul ass to get in here, then call us and we'll come for you, all right?"

"Of course, Dean. I'll protect her, I promise," Claire's tone was serious. For Dean to leave Emma's safety to her was monumental show of trust and she wouldn't let him down.

Dean pressed a button on the wall which caused the entrance to reopen. They made their way back to the living quarters where Dean grabbed his jacket, kissed Emma in her crib and told Claire to call Jody and let her know the plan. He headed back to the garage to find Mary and Sam all ready to go. Their mother decided to take the green convertible again, leaving Dean and Sam to follow in the Impala.

* * *

They were about an hour out from Bennett County when Dean addressed the poorly attempted covert glances that Sam was giving him.

"What?" he said, looking over at his brother, "Just say it."

"I'm having second thoughts about Claire," Sam looked at the road ahead of them before he turned back to Dean, "Look, she's like a little sister to us. She's practically Castiel's daughter whether she acknowledges it or not…."

"Yeah _and_ ….?"

"… _and_ the last time we let our little sister get involved in this business, we got her killed. Charlie…."

"Shut up, Sammy!" Dean growled immediately, his hands tightening on the steering wheel, "We're not talking about her!"

They were both silent for a few minutes then, when Dean calmed, he spoke again.

"Look, Claire's just gonna be babysitting while she gets her head together. She, Alex and Jody are about ready to explode. I'm not gonna make her into some kinda uber-hunter, okay? She's determined to go out there on her own no matter what we say but this way, we can keep her safe and try to convince her to go to school. Right now, she's better off with us and we could really use the help with Em."

Sam was silent for a moment and then he sighed, "Fine. But we gotta baby- and Claire-proof the Bunker when we get back. Claire's too impulsive and stubborn for her own good."

"You won't get any argument from me there…can we put this on the back burner for now?" Dean grumbled, "We gotta keep our eyes on the prize here. Where exactly is the Billdon House?"

* * *

"The past few years have been so difficult for this family- Steve, Geoff….. and now Dr. Katt and Robin…..and little Gracie…We've been through more than our fair share, you know?" Jennifer Billdon's eyes filled with tears.

Dean, Sam and Mary were in the drawing room of the Billdon mansion watching the distraught woman crying into her chamomile tea. They'd gone straight to her house once they'd reached the county limits, hoping to check the place for EMF and to get her side of the story. So far, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma at 8 years old," Mary said, her tone sympathetic, "I can't even imagine how terrible this has been for you."

"Thank you," Jennifer dabbed at her eyes. A few moments passed and, once she'd gotten a hold of herself, she asked, "I'm sorry Agents, I guess I just don't understand why you're here?"

"We're here to investigate the deaths of Dr. Katt and your nanny," Sam replied.

"B..but I thought those were just accidents?" Jennifer asked, bewildered, "Why does the F.B.I. care about the deaths of a couple of ordinary citizens in a little county like Bennett?"

"I'm really sorry, Ma'am," Dean began apologetically, "We're from a branch of the Bureau that, uh, investigates 'unexplained' occurrences. There are some unofficial reports that in both cases, each of the victims claimed to have seen your step-son Stevie's ghost before they died…."

"I can't believe that the F.B.I. makes you play _X-files_ because some callous, horrible people are lying about my family. Who would say something so ridiculous? Jennifer looked puzzled at first then she adopted a look of dawning comprehension, "It's that woman, isn't it? Betty Jones? That woman is a menace! She ran her own slanderous news rag into the ground and moved on to spewing her filth online! She's a liar, Agent Cassidy! You can't take anything she says seriously. You can ask anyone in this town about her vendetta against this family. For years she's been claiming that that Geoff Billdon Sr. cheated her Daddy out of their land, putting her family out in the street. My father-in-law bought that land fair and square at auction when Lee Jones let his mortgage payments lapse. That man was a wanderer and a dead-beat; couldn't hold down a job for more than a few months at a time. He was a disgrace to this town and she's following right along in his footsteps! She wrote filth about us when my husband and son died and now she's going after us again…"

The vehemence and suddenness of her hostility almost made Sam recoil and he glanced over at Dean, eyebrows raised. He halted her rant in its tracks, "Ma'am, we'll take all of what you've said into consideration while we carry out our investigation but we still need to clear this up and if can just bear with us a little longer, we can wrap this up quickly and be on our way."

Jennifer looked annoyed at being interrupted but recovered quickly. "Yes, yes of course!" she sighed deeply, "I…. I'm sorry, this is really just so painful to talk about."

"We understand, Ma'am," Sam said sympathetically, "Maybe if you can offer a little background about...?"

"Yeah…. of course, sorry," she agreed after a moment and Sam nodded at her encouragingly, "About three months before my son drow…. uh, I'm sorry, it's just…I haven't really shared this with many people….I…I found out that my husband was squandering away our fortune on high stakes bets on any and everything his enabling son-of-a-bitch bookie would throw his way; $20,000 on a Miami Heat game, $50,000 on how many M & Ms were in a 30 ounce Mason jar- he was out of control! He'd become moody and distant with me and I'd had no idea why. The night he found Stevie, we'd had a huge fight. I'd hired a private detective and he'd found out that not only had Geoff been gambling but that he'd already moved on from using our personal funds to embezzling from the business to pay off his debts. He….he also found out that my devoted husband had been having an affair with his new personal assistant; Karma, I suppose, because I was his P.A. when I first met him….but at least he'd been a widow then. We had a terrible argument when I confronted him that night. He'd been drinking and when I got in his face about screwing his glorified secretary whore, Patty, he…hit me. I locked myself in one of the guest rooms and took an Ambien. Geoff told me sometime after that by the time I'd gone to bed, he'd finished two bottles of red wine and was on to a third. He was on his way up to our room when he realised that the door to the terrace was open. It was incredibly late and Geoff always locked up and activated the alarm before bed. He just knew something was wrong and when he went outside to look around, he saw Stevie in the pool. The Medical Examiner said it was an accidental drowning; we thought that maybe he'd been sleepwalking again. Started around the time his real mother, Trudy died. The doctors felt at the time, that it was a direct result of the trauma of losing her and really, he'd gotten better in the last few years but then Geoff and I started growing apart. We tried our best to hide it from the kids but that night, I was just so angry! Months of secret looks and whispers between the workers any time I would show up at the Nursery; it finally all made sense! Stevie was such a sensitive boy- he must have realised that things had been falling apart the whole time and we were just too wrapped up in our own chaos to notice …..Anyway, the Police assumed that's how he ended up in the pool- it was just a horrible accident."

Jennifer looked away, wiping tears from her eyes, "Geoff….Geoff was inconsolable. He blamed himself for causing all of it and never got over it. A year later, he shot himself in his study on the anniversary of our Stevie's death"

"We're so sorry," Mary said softly.

Sam poured Jennifer some water from a pitcher on the side table, and she accepted it from him gratefully. After she'd settled down again, Dean spoke up. "Are you all right, Ma'am? Just a few more questions if that's okay?"

Jennifer nodded and offered him a small smile.

"Your daughter, Ma'am?" he said, "You mentioned she has lymphoma….?"

"Gracie's diagnosis is terminal. That quack, Dr. Katt missed all the signs. He's lucky I didn't sue him for malpractice! I put my trust, my child's _health_ in that man's hands and he…." Jennifer stopped, as her voice caught in her throat, "Gracie isn't doing well. She doesn't have much longer…"

"What about Robin?" Sam asked quietly, "And your brother in law, Daniel? We were told that he's been gone for many years?"

"Robin loved the kids; she's been a part of their lives since they were babies…." Jennifer looked down at her lap.

"Go on, Mrs. Billdon, _any_ thing you can tell us…"

"I…I really don't want to speak ill of the dead," Jennifer replied, reluctantly.

"Please Ma'am?" Sam plaintive voice and pleading-eyes were as potent as ever as Jennifer smiled at him and said, "I didn't share this with the police, because well, it just didn't really matter anymore…." Jennifer looked away, her discomfort obvious.

"It's okay, Mrs. Billdon, please continue," Mary nodded encouragingly.

"When Gracie first got sick, I didn't really think much of it. It just seemed like she'd gotten a really bad flu that wouldn't go away. When she wasn't getting any better, I took her to Dr. Katt and he assured me she was fine, just a little run down ….well, by the time we got Gracie checked out properly by a Doctor in Broadben County, it was too late. They told me there was nothing more they could do for her and so, after a few weeks in hospital, I brought her home. Robin took care of her; she'd been a hospice nurse in a residential facility years ago so she was more than qualified to do so. One night I walked in on Robin while she was tending to Gracie. She acted nervous, wouldn't look me in the eye. I didn't know what to think, but then the pharmacy called and told me they'd noticed discrepancies in the prescription refills of Gracie's morphine. She was going through them too fast. I didn't want to believe it at first- I thought it was just a mistake but when I talked to Robin about it, of course, she denied it, but we both knew the truth. That was two weeks ago. I hired a new nurse, and gave Robin notice. She asked for a few weeks make arrangements…and maybe I was too soft, but I said yes. She was due to leave next week. The police say Robin was on the phone with her sister when she was driving. She had such a terrible habit of doing that," Jennifer paused for a few moments as she visibly tried to hold back tears. When she'd recomposed herself, her face had hardened and she looked angry, "And Daniel? Everyone in this town knows that my brother-in-law is just trying to make trouble, like always. He didn't even have the guts to show his face when I was burying my husband- his own brother! That bastard has climbed out from under whatever rock he's been living under for the past few years because he's smelling blood in the water. No doubt he's found out that Gracie's sick and if she dies, I'll be the only person standing between him and this family's fortune!"

She rose abruptly from the sofa and began to pace, "Geoff Senior started with one family-run nursery, right here on this land and over 30 years grew the business into a multi million dollar enterprise with satellite stores all over the U.S. He loved this county; insisted that the company headquarters stay here. Our donations to the town have kept a lot of social programs open in our schools and a lot of people, employed. Our contributions have almost single-handedly saved this town from bankruptcy! If he thinks for one minute that he can waltz in here and destroy that legacy with his greed and …!"

They'd been at the house now for 30 minutes and Dean figured it was time to get some evidence one way or the other. After a few more minutes, when Jennifer's impassioned ranting had turned to more benign discussions like the types of plants and trees they specialised in and the other nursery locations around the country, Dean asked to use the bathroom. There was a powder room on the ground floor that the housekeeper, Fran, directed him to. Once it seemed like the coast was clear though, he made his way up the left side of a beautiful, double floating curved stair case to the second floor. He quickly ducked around the corner into an empty hallway, pulling out his EMF meter once he was sure he was alone. He made his way along, the meter registering minute levels of paranormal activity until he came across a closed door that made it go crazy. He quickly turned it off, worrying about the noise and cautiously opened the door. What struck him immediately was the number of machines, wires and tubing in the room and of course, the little girl in the bed at the center of it all. She was asleep, her breathing labored but steady, her skin sallow. Dean was immediately overcome with a raft of emotions. Seeing the blonde-haired child lying in that bed amongst all that medical equipment- tiny, fragile, almost lifeless…it made him think about his own little girl; the sweet, beautiful baby she was now and the teenager lying dead on the floor of a cheap hotel room years ago. Imagining either of those Emmas in Gracie's place was instantaneously painful. He closed his eyes, shaking his head as if to clear the disturbing visual from his mind. When he'd gotten a hold of himself, he quietly closed the door behind him and moved closer to her. Turning on the EMF meter one more time, he was surprised to find that most of the activity was concentrated around her. Ever conscious that he'd already been gone way too long, he began looking for any objects that might be tethering Stevie to the land of the living. Systematically, he made his way around the room, using the bed as the epicenter of his search. He found himself close to the door when the soft melodious "Hello" came from behind him.

He stopped in his tracks and turned back towards the child.

"Gracie?" he asked, going over to her side, "Don't be scared, honey…my name is…"

"Hi Dean," she replied, startling him.

How the hell did she know his name? When he asked her she whispered, "Stevie told me."

"You've seen Stevie…recently?" Dean was alarmed. If she'd seen him within the last hour…..

"I see him all the time," she replied, sleepily, 'Every night, just like before. He always used to sit with me 'til I fell asleep 'cause I was 'fraid of the dark."

"Sweetheart, you know that he's…he's..?"

"He's in Heaven, I know," she said quietly, "But he says I'm going to be with him soon…I miss him and Daddy."

Dean suppressed his reaction to those words, barely, "Was Stevie a good older brother, Gracie?" he croaked, helping her sit up when she struggled to do so on her own.

"The best!" she said with a tired grin, pulling her blankets up higher, "At school, he let me eat with him and his friends at lunch even when they made fun of him, he always helped me with my homework, let me watch my cartoons, taught me how to play checkers, gave me his desse…"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Dean grinned, holding up both his hands in mock surrender, "You're right, he sounds like the _absolute_ best big brother ever!

Gracie giggled and the sound warmed Dean's heart. She was _so_ much like Emma. He ran his hand over her hair, unable to help himself and she giggled again, holding out her hand for Dean to grasp.

Grace stared at him intently for a few moments and then smiled. "I knew it," she said, as she squeezed his hand tightly, "I told him he was wrong."

"What….?"

"Stevie, he thought you were here to hurt me."

"What?" Dean was baffled, "What do you mean?"

"He told me you hunt people with your family," she replied matter-of-factly, causing Dean's eyes to widen in surprise.

"Uh, well, Stevie's almost right. We hunt bad people- uh, not _people_ so much as monsters…monsters that hurt people," Dean almost rolled his eyes at his own unease. Somehow having to tell the truth to this child was making him tongue-tied.

"Real monsters?" Gracie asked, wonder and awe in her face, "like the Boogeyman?"

"Yeah," he agreed, glad that she seemed to be taking this all so well. He didn't really want to analyze the reason why her acceptance was so important to him but his brother's face came immediately to mind. Sammy was convinced that he was transferring his fears about Emma to his interactions with their mother and now, perhaps with Gracie. Dean cleared that thought quickly from his mind. The day he started agreeing with Sam's psychobabble was the day he'd start eating salads instead of pie.

"Has..has Stevie ever hurt you, Gracie?" Dean had to get this thing back on track. His hand shook slightly as he reached over and poured her some water from the pitcher next to her bed.

After taking a few sips with a grimace, she shook her head slightly and pushed the glass away, "Why would he?" she answered simply.

"You're right," Dean said, putting the glass back on the table, "Can I ask you something else? Has anyone else ever hurt…?"

Before he could finish, Dean heard voices coming down the hallway and he knew his luck had run out. He spun around just as the door to the room opened. Gracie started coughing.

"Who are you?" an angry man shouted at him from the doorway, "What're you doing in here?"

Dean immediately took up a position to shield Gracie, noticing from the corner of his eye that the little girl had slid down in the bed and turned away to face away from the door. Dean turned slightly to check on her when he felt a hand grip his shoulder, roughly jerking him back from the bed.

"Hey!' he shouted, slapping away the man's hand, "I'm Agent Cassidy, F.B.I.. I came in here because Miss Billdon sounded like she might need some help. Who are you?"

"Gracie?" the man walked around Dean and touched the girl's forehead, "What was wrong with her?"

"Coughing fit," Dean replied, finally getting a look at the man. He was young, maybe in his mid-twenties and was wearing scrubs. Dean guessed he was probably the nurse hired to care for the girl.

"Jason, what was that shout…Oh, Agent Cassidy!" Jennifer walked into the room, surprise on her face when she noticed Dean.

"He says he heard Gracie coughing and came in to help her," Jason walked over to them.

"T..thank you, Agent," Jennifer smiled warmly at Dean, "Jason is Gracie's nurse, I'm sure he can handle it from here…she needs to get her rest."

She gazed over at Jason who nodded almost imperceptibly at her after a moment.

"Sorry about that, man," Jason was apologetic.

"Yeah, okay," Dean replied, looking back at Gracie and saying a quick goodbye. She stayed silent, but he could tell that her eyes were open and that she was listening.

Dean let Mrs. Billdon lead him out of the room; she was telling him that she and his partners had been wondering where he'd gotten to. He snuck a glance at her as they headed downstairs. She appeared annoyed, her hands clenched tightly and her smile strained. He supposed that was understandable; if some stranger had wandered into Emma's room, he'd wouldn't have been as polite.

"I found our missing agent," Jennifer said, as they re-entered the drawing room, her voice more cheerful than the expression on her face would suggest, "Well, if there isn't anything else, I've got to get back to my daughter. Fran will show you out."

The housekeeper was already waiting with their coats in hand and a few moments later, they were heading a back to the town center.

* * *

They regrouped back at a local Motel 6 located on Main Street, a 30 minute drive from the house. According to Mary and Sam, they hadn't gotten much more out of Jennifer Billdon. When Dean had headed to the bathroom, she had left to take a phone call from the manager at the Nursery and the next time they'd seen her, she'd had Dean in tow.

Dean relayed his odd encounter to Sam and Mary. Their reaction was not what he'd anticipated.

"Well, I guess all that's left to do is get to the cemetery tonight to salt and burn Steven's Billdon's bones," Mary said, taking a sip of her bottle of water, "Seems like it's going to be a pretty straight-forward first case, after all."

Dean was incredulous. He was sure he'd described the situation well enough that 'straight-forward' was as far away from an accurate descriptor as one could get. There was much more to this case than met the eye, he could feel it. Stevie had clearly always been protective of his sister, sure, but did that translate directly to him being an avenging spirit? It was just too clean, too easy. The point was that they didn't have enough information to just wrap this up with a neat little bow and he told them so.

"Come on, Dean," Sam said, he and Mary looking at each other with knowing looks, "Mom's right. You haven't said _anything_ that disproves the 'vengeful ghost' theory. Stevie loved his sister, looked out for her. Their doctor misdiagnosed her and she missed out on vital early treatment and now an _8 year old girl_ is gonna have her life cut short because of it. And the nanny, the woman they've known their whole lives, who's been like a surrogate mother to them, broke that bond, that _trust_ by stealing the pain medication of her terminally ill charge? Sorry, I think Stevie's still the prime suspect here. You know, for someone who wasn't all that gung-ho about going on this trip you sure are reading a lot more into it than the evidence wou….."

"Really dude?" Dean was pissed. He _really_ hadn't liked that look that had passed between Sam and his mother- like they were just indulging him, _especially_ when he knew he was right.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Two minutes into the case and you're already sucking up to Mom? Is that what 'family hunting' is going to mean from now on?" It wasn't that Dean couldn't hear how much of a dick he was being, it was that he couldn't stop himself.

"What the hell, man!" Sam was completely taken aback by Dean's outburst and put his hands up in surrender, "Calm down!"

"Dean," Mary said quietly, knowing from long past experience that the true depth of her son's anger had yet to rear its ugly head.

Dean stood up abruptly, breathing heavily and knowing he had to get out of there before he really blew up. He wasn't usually one for self-reflection, but even _he_ knew that his reaction had been over the top and not entirely related to this case.

"I'm going to go do some _investigating_ ," he said sarcastically, "I'll call you _when_ I find something…"

He left without even a backwards glance at them, slamming the door on his way out. As he was getting into the Impala, he saw Sam come striding out of the room towards him. His brother opened the passenger side door and got in, just as he started the car.

"If you're going to tell me I was out of line, save it!" Dean said, putting the car in reverse, "I have things to do, so get out!"

Sam slammed the door pointedly and turned to Dean, "There were _so_ many other ways to have approached that conversation, Dean, and almost all of them included not making our mother feel like her being here is a huge inconvenience to you…"

"Out, Sam!"

"I don't think so," his brother replied firmly, turning his body forward, "With you throwing this temper tantrum right now, you won't get anything useful out of anyone you're about to interview. I'm here to…"

"…Kiss someone's ass again? Yeah, I've seen you in action recently so I know what it looks like, thanks!" Dean snapped, pressing down hard on the accelerator and sending Baby flying backwards in a tight arc. He slammed on the brakes and then pulled out onto Main Street. Sam ignored his the insult. There was no talking to Dean when he got this way. Sam only hoped that his brother would come to his senses before he said or did something that he couldn't take back.

Their first stop, Sheriff Raine.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** **This is part 2 of 3. Out a little later than I planned because I did even more rewrites today. It's also rather short but ends at a good spot. Part 3 in a day or two. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 6**

The Sheriff was a 6" 5', 230 pound man who displayed his Nebraska State Burger Eating Championship trophies, Years 2013 and 2016 on the same shelf as numerous hunting photos that showed him proudly standing next to various big game kills. He invited them to sit, asking 'his girl' Sadie- actually one of his deputies- to bring them all coffee. Dean had no trouble reading this guy and recognizing him for the giant pain in the ass that he was. He _really_ wasn't in the mood to deal with a 'Sheriff Lobo' today.

"Thank you for seeing us," Sam started, knowing exactly what his brother was thinking, "We're investigating the circumstances surrounding the deaths of Dr. Katt and Robin Jasper…"

"Well, I'm sorry you wasted your time, boys," the Sheriff said, sounding anything but apologetic, "but I can't imagine what's left to talk about here. The Bennett County P.D. doesn't usually squander taxpayer money drawing out open and shut cases of accidental death." He paused, a smirk forming on his face that irritated the hell out of Dean. "Now, how 'bout you tell me what's got the F.B.I.'s panties in a twist over the death of two…"

"How 'bout you show some professionalism or at least some professional courtesy and help us out here." Dean's hostility made his brother grimace.

"…..What my partner's _trying_ to say," Sam spoke over Dean, "is that there's been some suggestion that the death of these two people may be linked to Steve and Geoff Billdon's deaths and….."

Sheriff Raine's genial demeanor turned on a dime. "Are you talking about suggestions from Betty Jones or from Daniel Billdon? Because I think they're the only two people on God's green earth that can't accept the reality of this situation. Betty Jones is the town shit-stirrer, evil conspiracy theorist and the goddamned source of mosta my headaches. When she isn't staging one woman protests against Bell's Diner's use of _non-_ _Responsibly Grown and Fair Trade Coffee_ \- and that's a term I know only 'cause that woman screamed it for 24 hours from the jail cell I threw her into when I charged her for disturbing the peace-, she's stirring up families grieving over the loss of their loved ones with talk of a dead child's ghost. Now Daniel Billdon, he's always been a real piece o' work. Didn't have the smarts, the looks, or the confidence of his brother. He was the family disappointment long before he got out o' wearing short pants, and he knew it too. Whatever clout or credibility his name may have given him in this town, died the day he slunk outta here with his tail between his legs. I ain't goin' into any details about it- you can ask anyone on the street and they can tell you why the coward ran, but I will say this. I oversaw all those cases personally- _all_ of them, Agent. The Billdons are an important family in this state, so you can rest assured that our investigation was very thorough and done by the book. Now, I know we may not be some big city law enforcement team or anywhere near as advanced as you Feds down Langley way, but we still know how to work a case around these parts. Now, I take exception to you coming in here, with your Holier-than-Thou attitude, and questioning the integrity of my department and the work we do here…"

"Well, I hadn't quite gotten around to doing that yet, but now that you mention it…," Dean retorted through gritted teeth.

"We'd never suggest that your department operates with anything other than the utmost dedication, Sheriff. We're just hoping to clarify a few points and put some issues to rest. We've reached out to you because we were hoping you could lend us your expertise…," Sam interjected, placatingly.

"Now see," Sheriff Raine turned to the seething Dean, "That's how you blow smoke up my ass if you want me to do you a favour. You could learn a lot from Agent Bonaduce, here."

Thankfully, Dean remained silent and stone-faced while Sam managed to charm copies of all four reports from the Sheriff, even getting him to go through each case to fill in some of the finer details. After nearly 45 minutes, Sam was as close to satisfied as he was going to get. He thanked the Sheriff who dismissed them, waving them away like they were underfoot children. Sam glared at the back of Dean's head, as his brother stalked his way through to the station's front door.

"What was that?" Sam hissed once they reached the car, "I thought you were here to get proof for your theory not turn key witnesses against us? Especially when we're impersonating Federal officers and those witnesses are law enforcement! Do you think…?"

"That was all bullshit, Sam!" Dean fairly exploded, as if he'd just been waiting to clear the threshold before he let go, "That arrogant son-of-a-bitch probably cared more about losing valuable hunting time than investigating these deaths!"

"Well, despite your best efforts, Dean, I think we _did_ actually manage to get what we came here for!" Sam barked, as they both got into the Impala, "We got the case reports we wanted, which were actually pretty thorough, and even when I went at him from different angles, the Sheriff didn't contradict himself- not once! Now, obviously the man arrogance makes him think he's the 'King of all he surveys' around here but this _is_ a pretty small count. But having you attack him right off the bat was _always_ going to get his hackles up…"

Sam paused for a moment looking at Dean's stubborn glower and sighing, "I know you're not going to like this, but after what we've heard today, I _still_ think that 'vengeful ghost' is the most likely…..Dean…. _Dean_?"

They turned into the motel parking lot but Dean kept the motor running. Sam looked at his brother in exasperation and turned in his seat to face him.

"It's still too simple, Sammy," Dean replied finally, "It doesn't sit right with me, none of it. I'm dropping you off then I'm gonna head out for a bit, see if I can get a handle on this thing, do some thinking…"

"Dean, don't go off half-cocked by yourself and do something stupid!" Sam knew that look on Dean's face and he wasn't liking it one bit.

"I'm not," Dean tried his best to reassure his brother (read: lie convincingly), "I just need to clear my head. I'll meet you at the cemetery, later. If I'm not going to make it in time, I'll text you, okay?"

Sam glared at Dean, not buying the look of fake innocence his brother had plastered on his face. "Now, all of a sudden, you're all for the Stevie, 'The Un-friendly Ghost' theory? "

When Dean stayed silent and looked askance at him, Sam huffed and got out of the car.

"Fine!" he grumbled, leaning back through the window as he noted the triumphant smirk on Dean's face, "Don't get yourself killed!"

Dean all-out grinned and started to back out of the driveway as Sam shouted at him to call for back up _when_ he got into trouble.

* * *

"Agent?"

Dean turned in his seat at the booth to see the Deputy from earlier, Sadie standing next to his table.

"Uh," she started, looking nervous, "D…Deputy Sadie Gordon, we met earlier at the station? I, uh, brought you coff…"

"Yeah, I remember," Dean assured her. He was currently plowing through a bowl of loaded potato skins. He was sure he didn't look very intimidating though, wearing (self-consciously) a bib to protect his suit. You wouldn't have known it though, by the Deputy's demeanor. He pushed the food away and ripped off the bib, "How can I help you?"

"I'm sorry for disturbi…..can I talk with you a minute?" Sadie asked.

"Of course," he gestured to the other side of the booth, "Please, have a seat. Are you hungry? I'll call the waitress over, my treat?"

"Uh, maybe just some water," the deputy slid into the booth, thanking him with a small smile.

"Sure," Dean called the waitress over and, a few moments later, she brought one over to them.

Dean studied Sadie as she immediately drank half the glass in one go. She was young, maybe 26 or 27 with dark brown hair that she'd coiled into a messy bun at the nape of her neck and a pair of black, thick rimmed glasses that perfectly offset her crystal blue eyes. She looked up at him when she noticed him staring, pushing the frames up her nose when she put down the glass.

"Whatever it is, you can talk to me Deputy," he said mildly, trying to put her at ease.

She nodded and paused again. Then she asked, "So you're finished with your investigation then?"

"No," Dean answered carefully, "I'm just getting started." Something about the tone of the deputy's voice and the way she was looking at him made Dean pause. She was clearly conflicted and looking for an opening, some reason to trust him with whatever information she wanted to impart. He could understand her hesitance, given the jackass she was working for.

Sadie stared at Dean and he could see her searching his eyes. He stared back at her earnestly, hoping that she could find the assurances she was looking for.

"I just took a lunch break. I have 45 minutes but honestly, the Sheriff won't notice if I'm gone a little longer. I came looking for you, actually. I was very happy to see your car parked at this very outside-the-city limits diner…..sweet ride, by the way.." She was rambling now.

"You came looking for me….?"

"Yeah, I noticed that you weren't very, uh, impressed with the Sheriff today." she paused again trying to gauge his reaction.

"So you're happy that we're in an out of the way diner and your boss won't notice you're gone…?" Dean raised his eyebrows expectantly, realizing that he was going to have to help her out a bit.

"May or may not be a surprise to you, Agent, but once I get the Sheriff's coffee, or his dry-cleaning or his favourite donuts, I practically cease to exist in that office. Sometimes I'm surprised that he remembers my name."

"Yeah, I could tell he's missed the past few decades of the Women's Rights Movement," Dean quipped, wiping his hands with a napkin. They gazed at each other again and, just as Dean was about to be a little more forthright about his hatred for small talk, she began again.

"I've only been working at the Bennett County Department for the past 6 months. Before that, after I graduated from the Academy, I worked with the Denver P.D. for four years," Sadie took another sip of water, "I guess, some might consider me still a little green, but let's just say that even I know that this county's approach to law enforcement leaves a lot to be desired. Especially as it pertains to the Billdon family."

Dean shifted a little in his seat, his eyes reflecting his keen interest.

"How's that?" He threw the napkin on the table, giving her his undivided attention.

"Tell me…," she leaned forward on the table, "are you from a small town?

He nodded. Lawrence might be a pretty big city but only about 200 people called Lebanon, Kansas home.

"And have you had a chance to drive through Bennett County yet?" she asked.

Again he nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

"Did you happen to notice something about the businesses out on Main Street?" Sadie hoped he would stick with her as she led him through '20 questions'.

"There's a couple of liquor stores on either end?" Dean said with a smirk, grinning slightly when he saw Sadie's amused look. He thought about it for a moment and then replied, "Practically everything has the Billdon name slapped on it- the grocery store, the hardware store…"

"Precisely," she nodded relieved, then said quietly, "Off the record, Agent, my family may have moved to Colorado when I was two, but I'm Nebraskan, and I know a few unalienable truths. When you live in this state and your name is Billdon, your influence and money spreads far and wide- far enough to get certain Mayors re-elected multiple times and to have overweight, far 'past their prime' Sheriffs bending the rules for you and quickly shutting down any investigations that might shine a less than favorable light on your family and your multimillion dollar business; newspaper reports about suicides and embezzled company money don't help stock prices and they don't ensure big fat end of year bonuses either…"

"Are you saying there've been cover ups in your department?" he asked.

"I'm not _saying_ anything at all, Agent," Sadie answered, her tone obviously meant to indicate that she was planning on denying this conversation had ever taken place, " _On the record_ , you saw the official reports- there's no evidence to suggest that the deaths of Dr. Katt and Miss. Jasper were anything more than unfortunate incidents. Off the record, I'm _also_ not saying that I was told in no uncertain terms by the Sheriff to back off when I suggested that it was too early to consider those cases closed after only a week. None of it smelled right to me so I've been looking into things….on my own."

The deputy finished her water, "These aren't the only cases that have made me question the way things are run in this town…."

"I'm all ears."

"I don't normally put much credence in innuendo and speculation, but I've heard a few things that, well….look, it seems that Geoff Billdon had been getting ready to divorce Jennifer Billdon before he died. Rumor has it that as soon as the honeymoon was over, she basically became a demanding shrew, spent his money like it grew on the trees at one of their nurseries and acted like an evil stepmother to his kids. On the surface, she appears to be nothing more than a gold-digger who found her sugar-daddy, but I think she's much smarter than people give her credit for…."

"Are you _not_ saying that you think she had something to do with her husband's death?" Dean asked, gravely.

"I was practically persona non grata at the office for two days when I asked about the Geoff and Steve Billdon cases. You went through those cases too, right? The Sheriff handled them personally too. Said he didn't want to "draw out the inevitable" and, just like Dr. Katt and Miss. Jasper, he had the Billdon deaths all wrapped up practically while the bodies were still warm. The Sheriff apparently wanted to "bring a swift end the family's suffering." Mrs. Billdon had alibis for both of them, of course but once you dig a little deeper, some of the details just don't stand up. Like why two days ago, a car of a similar make and model to Jennifer Billdon's was spotted in the vicinity of Robin Jasper's accident. When it first came in, the team leader assigned me to her case but by the time anyone thought to tell me that, her car had already been towed and taken to the salvage yard. The Sheriff ran point in the meantime, apparently. When I asked to be brought up to speed, I was told I didn't need to see the photos of the scene because "he had it covered and as the new kid on the block, my job was to follow orders." I was patronizingly told "not to worry my pretty little head" about the details. In Dr. Katt's case, the Sheriff took one look at the vodka bottles next to his bed, put that together with the calls to his daughter, and that was that."

Dean grit his teeth but didn't make a sound. Everything Sadie had said thus far was royally pissing him off but he couldn't afford an outburst that would scare her off. He finally understood why she'd been so reluctant to confide in him at first. She was being smart; this was a pretty dangerous game she was playing, career-wise.

"In relation to the Katt and Jasper deaths, the Bureau's heard something a bit out of the ordinary; something about a ghost? _Stevie's_ ghost….…?" Dean stopped when the waitress came to clear their table and give them the bill.

"Yeah, that tidbit. You've obviously read Betty's blog. I think you can imagine how the Sheriff reacted to that. Look, I know that a lot of people in this town think that Betty Jones is a kook but she's about the only person who's still willing to tell it like it is around here. Her family was screwed over in the worst way- they lost everything after the Billdons took their house. Betty was one of five children; the two oldest moved away, the other three, including Betty stayed to look after her father. Losing his home and his job broke him. Mr. Jones went into a deep depression and couldn't hold down any jobs after that. Betty and the other two were subject to the Billdon brand of polite institutional exclusion- missing out on potentially high-paying jobs that went to clearly less qualified candidates -no explanations given, repayments on the mortgage or the car weren't allowed to be more than a minute late before repo men weren't knocking on their door….The others moved away eventually, leaving Betty to take care of her father alone. She'd done well in English and Social Sciences in high school but because she dedicated her life to looking after her father, she never went to college to pursue journalism. Still, she took a chance and started a local newspaper- mostly general interest pieces to start. She made a modest living and it helped her care for her dad. Even after he passed on, she stayed here, enduring this town's prejudice. When she started printing stories that were more critical of the Billdons' hold on this town, they shut her down. Trying to silence her was a mistake; it turned a lot of people to her side and when she started her online blog years later, people started to support her." Sadie sighed deeply, "The point of all this, is that when Betty publishes anything on that blog, you can trust that you're getting well researched facts. Now about the ghosts….not that I think they exist, but I'm sure the doctor and Robin saw… _something_ , something that scared them before they died."

Dean looked at her assessingly, "You seem to know quite a lot about Betty's history…"

"Let's just say that since I've been living here, _truth_ has been in short supply. I've talked with her. Sure she's got reasons not to be objective where the Billdons are concerned, but it doesn't mean that what she writes isn't true." Sadie looked at her watch and then back at Dean apologetically, "I'm sorry Agent Cassidy, but I have to get back."

"Okay," Dean reached into his wallet and threw a few bills on the table. He was about to stand up when Sadie caught his hand.

Her voice was slightly pained, her blue eyes seemingly boring right though his with their intensity, "I want you to know that my coming to you with all this goes against every fiber of my being- I'm a cop; being a rat is not in my D.N.A., but I'm stuck. I….I can't trust anyone in the department and when I realized what you and your partners were investigating, well, it was like serendipity. I was gonna contact the Bureau once I got enough evidence, but now, with you here already…maybe we can finally clean up this town and get some justice…."

Sadie stopped herself, her passionate speech almost getting the better of her as she realized she'd been squeezing Dean's arm tighter and tighter as it had progressed. She let go of him suddenly, her face turning red with embarrassment.

"Here's my card, Deputy," he pulled out a business card and put it directly into her hand, "Call me any time, even if there are other things you _can't say_. I'm going to get to the bottom of this, I promise you."

Sadie gave him a radiant smile, her eyes piercing through his again then she sobered. "Thank you, Agent Cassidy."

Dean smiled at her and they headed out of the diner to their cars. Dean watched her drive back towards town before he got into Baby. He pulled out his phone and called Sam to share this latest information.

"Obviously law enforcement in this town is a joke but I still think that we're still dealing with a vengeful ghost here," Sam said to a frustrated Dean, "and to be honest, after what we've learned about these people, I'm just about ready to let Stevie do whatever he wants."

"Have you been listening to a word I've said," Dean asked tersely, wondering how his usually level-headed and intelligent brother was being so idiotic right now.

"Yes, Dean, I have. Look, we called the Doctor's daughter and Robin's sister. They're adamant that whatever their relatives saw must have been some kind of manifestation of guilt. Mom and I were actually about to go talk to Betty. I'll get back to you if we find out anything."

"Fine," Dean agreed grudgingly, "I'll talk to you later."

"Wait!" Sam called, "What are you….?"

* * *

When Baby pulled up to the seedy motel on the other side of town, Dean found himself suitably impressed. He and Sam had stayed at some real dives over the years but this one? This one made him want to take a shower in a gallon of that hand gel stuff that Sam liked to use. He walked up to the second floor landing and knocked on Daniel's door. A tall middle aged man, with a full head of grey hair, thick coke bottle glasses and a slight paunch opened the door almost immediately.

"Mr. Billdon?" Dean said, whipping out his badge, "Agent Cassidy, F.B.I. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

"No, no thank you for contacting me. Maybe now we can get somewhere," Daniel sounded a little manic as he ushered Dean into the room. There were papers strewn everywhere and old take-out containers with a lovely mix of aromas ranging from moldy to maggot-ridden. Daniel rushed to clear stacks of Manila folders off a chair and then offered the seat to Dean.

"Uh..thanks," Dean said. Yep, alcohol bath when he got back to the Motel6.

"You mentioned wanting to talk about my brother and nephew, Agent?"

"Yes Mr. Billdon. First off, I understand that you left Bennett County some time ago?"

"You've been talking to that bitch, Jennifer, haven't you?" Daniel spat venomously, " _Left_? I was _run_ out of town by my brother because that woman convinced him that I'd gotten drunk one night and tried to rape her! She's a liar and a con-artist! She tricked my brother into marrying her one year after his wife, Trudy died from breast cancer. Jennifer was his personal assistant for almost 8 months but you could tell what she _really_ wanted to _assist_ him with. She threw herself at him every chance she got and Geoff was so blinded by her… _charms_ that he believed every disgusting word she whispered in his ear about me. He engineered a hostile takeover of the company that _we_ owned 50-50, in revenge. He gave me 700 grand and told me to leave or get nothing….. "

"And you didn't fight it, get your shares back….?" Dean asked.

"Oh I tried, believe me, but my brother and his battery of lawyers knew _exactly_ how to get around the Company by-laws to make everything iron-clad and legal. So…I took the money and moved to Arizona. I'm not proud of it, believe me, but I didn't have a choice…I tried my hand at a few start-ups of my own but I made one too many wrong investments and lost most of it. I was bitter and angry for years. I didn't even come back when Stevie..." Daniel swallowed thickly, and looked away.

"Mr. Billdon, I understand that there's no love lost between you and Jennifer. If you don't mind, I'd like to switch gears for a minute because I need to ask you about your brother. I've been told that he may have been stealing money from the business because of a gambling addiction and that his suicide….."

"My brother would _never_ have killed himself. He wouldn't have left Gracie, not for anything, and the company meant everything to him- more than his own brother! He may have been stupid about a lot of other things, but he was a genius with the company. He would never have compromised himself or the business, I don't care what that woman says. Even blinded by her lies, Geoff wouldn't have left Jennifer in charge of our father's legacy," Daniel had taken to pacing now, his irritation worsening, "Look Agent, my nephew died when I still hated my brother and I thought it would hurt him more if I didn't show up for the funeral. When Geoff died...I was _still_ angry, but at myself. If I'd known I would never get another chance to make up with him, to apologise for not being there when his son…..I cut myself off from anything Billdon-related after Geoff and moved to Canada; tried to make a fresh start and find a way to deal with the guilt. Then Betty Jones tracked me down a few days ago and told me about Gracie being sick and something about sightings of Stevie's ghost; I _had_ to come back. I don't believe much in the paranormal, but I _have_ to do right by my niece, even if she doesn't have much time left. I can't leave her with that grifter anymore, Lord knows what…"

The hunter was getting an uneasy feeling. Despite his highly agitated state, Dean wasn't really getting the impression that Daniel had any screws loose or was just a greedy bastard looking for a payout. Dean started thinking back to his time with Gracie. Despite being very ill, the giggly, happy little girl, was ever present underneath all of the alarms and monitors. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, picturing her smiling face and the way her eyes shone brightly with love for her brother. He was sure he'd seen the same look in Emma's eyes when she stared up intently at him every time he held her. His heart clenched as it dawned on him why he'd been feeling so unsettled and short-tempered since he'd gotten to Nebraska. He missed his daughter. The realization gave him clarity and a memory suddenly came unbidden to his mind.

When that male nurse and Jennifer had walked into Gracie's room earlier, that happy little girl had shut down immediately and turned away from everyone in the room. Something was going on in that house and he didn't like what his gut was telling him. He needed real answers and there was only one place he was going to get them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **A/N:** **Ok, this took longer than I wanted but again, I was doing major rewrites with not much time to do them. It's an extra-long chapter so hopefully that will make up for it. Thanks for your patience. Enjoy!**

 **Warnings for occasional strong language**

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Deputy Gordon lied to you," Sam shouted, the racket in the background almost drowning out his voice, "We met with Betty. Once Mom identified herself as the Agent she'd spoken to before, Betty was _very_ forthcoming. She was _so_ relieved that her _niece_ , _Sadie_ , was finally getting help fighting the 'evil Bennett County establishment'. They've been keeping their relationship under wraps so that Sadie could 'take 'em down from the inside.' I mean, I get it. Sadie probably didn't want her connection to Betty influencing your opinion of her motives. Still….."

"Yeah, still," Dean agreed, filing the information away for now, "What's your E.T.A.?"

"We're on our way back from the cemetery but it'll take a while. We're at a railway crossing and the world's slowest, longest freight train is passing by as we speak," Sam huffed, in annoyance, "Hey Dean, you never said where you…"

"Sorry, can't hear you…breaking up!" Dean hung up quickly and sighed. He was pretty sure this was gonna qualify as one of those stupid things Sam had warned him against doing, earlier. A text notification came in seconds later from his brother, asking what stupid thing he was currently doing. Dean glared at the message then ignored it. He sent a text to check in with Claire and then put the phone back in his pocket.

Dean was currently sitting in the Impala across the street from the Billdon House. Earlier, he'd seen Fran leaving for the day and now Jason and Jennifer were on their way out too. Dean shook his head incredulously as he wondered _exactly_ who was watching Gracie right now. He waited 'til they'd been gone for 5 minutes and then headed over to the house. Having taken note of the security cameras earlier, Dean kept to the shadows as he approached one of the back windows. There were no obvious alarms, so he wrapped his jacket around his elbow and broke the glass. He waited a beat, listening on his police scanner app but, when a few minutes had passed and all was quiet, he opened the window and climbed through.

Dean made his way up the stairs carefully, though it was obvious he had no reason to; the place was dead silent. Yeah, those assholes had left Gracie all alone. He turned on his EMF meter as he made his way up to her room, unsurprised when it went crazy in front of her door again. He cursed under his breath when he attempted to open it. What kind of people would lock a sick child in her room in an empty house? Oh right, assholes! Dean picked the lock and rushed over to the bed to make sure that she was okay. He thanked Chuck that Gracie seemed fine; she was lying in her bed sleeping peacefully, a little smile on her face. Satisfied, Dean decided to take the opportunity to search the rest of the house, hoping to find some useful evidence of…well, anything to use against them. He had to be quick though, because there was no telling when Jennifer and Jason would get back. He'd just turned away from the bed, when he heard a little cough behind him.

"Dean?" Gracie asked tiredly, "Are you here to take me away?"

"Gracie, Honey, are you okay?" he put his hand on her forehead, "Oh my God, you're burning up!"

He looked up at the monitor, only now realising that it wasn't actually turned on. He put his fingers on her neck; her heart rate was way too fast and, once he looked more closely, he could see that her breathing was quick and raspy. He cursed himself for having missed the signs.

"I think you have a fever, Gracie. I'm taking you to the hospital, okay?"

"Okay." She sighed contentedly when he poured some cool water from a pitcher onto a hand towel and placed it on her forehead.

"Do you want some water, Gracie?" he asked, pouring the rest into a glass. He held it up to her lips but she turned away, "No, it tastes funny. It always tastes funny."

Dean stopped, staring at the glass in his hand. Hesitantly, he brought it to his nose and detected a faint acrid smell. He was about to try a sip when his phone rang. He put the glass down and pulled it out. It was from an unknown number.

"Agent Cassidy here."

"Agent, this is Deputy Gordon," Sadie said, her voice harried, "I'm at the Mountain View motel. Daniel Billdon's been shot multiple times by an unknown assailant. He called Betty about 20 minutes ago in a panic because he saw Stevie's ghost in his room. Then she contacted me. Maybe 5 to 10 minutes later, someone fired an entire clip from a .38 through the window. By the time I got here, he'd already lost a lot of blood. He's alive- barely, Agent Cassidy. Multiple GSWs in the chest and abdomen and on his way to Fleming General now. If…if I could have gotten here sooner…."

"No," Dean said, cutting her off resolutely, "Don't do that. You can't change what's happened- it's done. Now, all you can do is make it right."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Agent, because I could really use your help. I didn't have a choice- I had to call it into the Department. Given Jennifer Billdon's _love_ for her brother-in-law, I'm fully expecting history to repeat itself here. I'm sure the Sheriff will be down here any minute, ready to call it a random drive-by so he can close the book on it as fast as possible."

"I'm, uh, a little caught up with something….," Dean replied sniffing the pitcher itself and recoiling. The weird smell was even more pronounced.

"Agent Cassidy, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I have a theory. Dr. Katt, Robin, Daniel….I don't exactly know if what they saw was a ghost but _whatever_ it was, I don't think it was athreat…I think it, Stevie, was more like a warning. Someone else…"

"I've been thinking the same thing…." Dean said his eyes widening. He'd looked up when Grace made a small groan only to see a tow-headed boy in a white hospital gown standing beside her, head cocked to the side as he stared at Dean appraisingly. He recognized Stevie immediately from the numerous pictures he'd seen of him over the course of the day. Of course, he looked a little different now; he was completely transparent and glowing with an unnatural brightness that made Dean's eyes water.

"Stevie?" Gracie coughed, reaching towards her brother. That seemed to break the boy's focus and he looked down at her and smiled, running his hand over the side of her face. The little girl sighed, thanking her brother as her breath condensed in the colder air. Dean immediately took the washcloth away, not wanting it touching her any longer. He looked up to see Stevie staring at him again, his face more relaxed now.

"Deputy," Dean sounded much calmer than he felt, "I think you're right. I'm at the house with Gracie and Stevie's…uh, just come to visit….I think _they'll_ be on their way back soon. I need you here."

Sadie gasped, immediately understanding him and knowing that they were on the same wavelength, "I'm on my way!"

As soon as he disconnected, a call came in from Sammy. Dean rolled his eyes. He really needed to get out of here with Gracie because right now, Stevie could be a harbinger of death for either of them. He answered anyway, awkwardly cradling the phone to his ear while he started disconnecting Gracie from numerous cables.

"Dean!" Sammy practically blew out his eardrum when he bellowed into the phone, "Where the hell are you? Daniel Billdon saw Stevie. Betty just called us. She said that shots were fired at the motel where he's staying…..!"

" _Stevie's_ here with me. He's a ghost, all right, but he isn't vengeful…I think he's like an omen of death and right now, Gracie's in danger….I gotta go…"

"Dea…!"

Dean ended the call and tucked the phone back in his pocket. He had just lifted Gracie into his arms when he heard a noise coming from downstairs and the voices of two people.

"Son of a bitch!" he swore, glancing up and seeing the look of resignation on Stevie's face as he stared at him sadly. Then, he was gone. Dean took that exit to mean that he was freaking screwed. Time to come up with a plan- _now!_ He looked around wildly, seeing a large oak armoire in the corner of the room. He adjusted Gracie in his arms, awkwardly picking up a thick wool blanket from the foot of her bed, and hurrying them both towards it.

"Sweetheart," he said to her, as she looked up at him drowsily, "I need you to be real quiet, okay? We're in danger right now and I have to put you in the closet to keep you safe."

He knelt down quickly in front of it, placing her on the floor and making a nest inside with the blanket.

"Okay, Dean," Gracie whispered, finally opening her eyes as he lifted her up again, "Stevie says I won't have to be sad anymore. It won't be long…he's gonna take me home."

Alarmed, Dean stopped in the middle of settling her in, "No Baby, you're gonna be fine, you hear me? You rest and I'll be back for you. You stay quiet as a mouse, okay?"

Gracie smiled at him and patted his hand, "It'll be okay, Dean."

He stared at her for a second, unable to stop the overwhelming despair he felt at this gentle acquiescence. He closed his eyes, the memory of his daughter's dead body filling his mind unbidden, and the anguish was magnified. After a few moments of this, Dean cursed himself for losing focus and kissed Gracie's forehead, pulling the blanket around her slight frame so that she was somewhat hidden. Hearing the voices raised now in what was clearly a heated argument, Dean shut the door and pulled out his Beretta, racking the slide.

He opened the bedroom door a sliver, relieved to hear that the voices were still coming from downstairs. He slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Skulking along the wall hidden in shadows, Dean headed towards the staircases.

"…I don't know why I listened to you!" Jennifer Billdon was shouting angrily, "Subtle, quiet, under the radar- how difficult a concept is that to understand? If we'd done it like I wanted to, and taken him out in the alley, we could've made it look like a robbery! I've paid that idiot Sheriff _a lot_ of money to look the other way but it doesn't mean we can be stupid, either. There's only so much that that jackass'll be able to do if we start attracting too much attention, like the kind that comes with a gangland-type shooting of a Billdon family member at some crummy motel! _"_

"I heard you, Jenn!"

"A mugger is one thing, but a drive-by is a serious threat to the whole county. You can't keep a thing like that under wraps…..!"

"I said _I heard you_ , Babe! I still think you're overreacting. I mean, dead is dead."

Jason and Jennifer. Dean closed his eyes, his jaw clenching. He _really_ hated being right all the time.

"Look, it'll be fine. It might actually be better this way. Daniel messed up big time in Arizona, right? Didn't he lose most of his investors' money? Who's to say this isn't payback for that loser's screw ups?" It suddenly got quiet and then, "Besides, Baby, this is almost over. We just need to take care of the kid and then we're good. She's practically gone, anyway. A few more doses of that glyphosate stuff you got from the Nursery or she gets a cold or something and that's it..."

It took all of Dean's willpower not to storm down the stairs and shoot the murderous bastard in the face. Since that really wasn't an option right now, he still had to come up with a way out of this mess for him and Gracie. Sadie would be arriving any minute and the two downstairs were hopped up on adrenaline. There was no telling _what_ they would do when she got there. As if Murphy and his stupid Law were taunting him, Dean could see the flashing of police lights reflected on the wall at the base of the staircase. He was out of time.

"What the fuck?" Jason said, clearly noticing the lights as well.

"Calm down, Jase!" Jennifer hissed, though she sounded just as agitated, " _Someone_ just shot my brother-in-law. The cops were _always_ going to come inform me as his next of kin. You need to get a grip, okay?"

Dean could hear her heels clicking on the wooden floor as she headed to the front door. Leaning around the wall, he could see that Jason had followed her into the foyer and Dean took the opportunity to rush down the right staircase so that he could duck into the room at the bottom. He only realized his mistake when it was already too late. In his haste, he'd entered the drawing room he'd sat in earlier that day. Apart from the three couches and a very see-through glass table, there really wasn't anywhere to hide his 6' 1" frame. He dove behind the sofa abutting the large bay windows at the far side of the room. He was just in time too. The three entered the room not 5 seconds later, thankfully staying near the centre, closer to the far end of the table. He slowly turned over onto his back after realizing that he could _just_ see their reflections in the window above him if he angled his body slightly. As Jennifer had predicted, Sadie was _indeed_ informing her about that attack on Daniel. He could see though, that Sadie was fidgeting constantly, no doubt worried about his and Gracie's safety and about being outnumbered amongst cold-blooded killers. He had to find a way to signal her so she wouldn't blow her own cover.

"I know you're new to the area," Mrs. Billdon said, her voice tight, "but Daniel and I have never gotten along. I haven't even spoken to him in years, so I appreciate your coming out here to tell me, but I don't know how much help I can be."

"Nevertheless, Mrs. Billdon, if you could come down to the Station with me…" Sadie's voice wavered slightly. He really hoped she could see what he could. Jennifer was facing her head on but behind her, Jason was off to her left; Dean hoped Sadie realized just how agitated the man was. Apparently she had, because she turned her body obliquely so she could keep them both in her peripheral vision.

"I think Mrs. Billdon's said all she's willing to say to you without her lawyer, _Deputy_ ," Jason's angry voice rang out through the room, "Now, it's pretty late and there's a sick child upstairs, so unless we need to call your boss…?"

It was the wrong thing to say to her. Mentioning the Sheriff broke the camel, his back and the harness all at once.

Sadie's back straightened and Dean shook his head slightly and got ready to move.

"And _you_ are…?" she asked, scathingly.

"I'm Jason Williams, Gracie's nurse and a friend of Mrs. Billdon, Deputy….?"

"Deputy Gordon, and this is a _family_ issue, so respectfully, _Jason_ , I'm gonna need you to just back off, okay?" Sadie turned completely to face him and Dean could see that she was adopting a defensive stance.

"I think we _all_ need to calm down," Jennifer said, "But Jason's right. It's late and I need to check on Grace. If you still need me tomorrow, you can have Sheriff Raine contact me, and my attorney and I will come by the Station. Goodnight, Deputy."

Sadie didn't move and Dean could tell that she was weighing up the pros and cons of just laying all of her cards out on the table. He cursed under his breath. Fortunately, she nodded and Jennifer escorted her out of the room, Jason following behind them.

"For God's sake, Jason, tonight's already been a crapfest, can you please keep your eyes on the prize here! Starting a fight with that rookie is _not_ helpful, okay!" There was silence for a few seconds and then Jennifer's voice took on a more sultry tone, "Let's go up, hmmm? I think I know _just_ how to relax you, baby."

Dean almost gagged. This woman was a true master manipulator. Sadie was right- Jennifer _was_ much smarter than people gave her credit for. Fortunately, by distracting her boy-toy, Jennifer had just given Dean the opening he needed. He waited, hearing their retreating figures heading up the stairs. He got up off the ground, knees cracking and back stiff. He winced at the sharp noise and stood still for a moment, listening. Turning towards the window, he almost had a 'Sammy-freak out' moment (read: screamed like a girl). Sadie was outside staring at him gesturing towards the window latch. It took him a second to remember how to move but then he sprang forward and opened the window, helping her to climb inside.

"How the hell did you know I was here?" Dean hissed when she was finally standing in front of him.

She slapped him on the shoulder, a scowl on her face, "I saw your reflection in the window, idiot! If _I_ could see you, _they_ could have seen you!"

"Yeah, all right," he replied, somewhat chagrined, "They're up there…. _celebrating._ In the meantime, we need to get Gracie out of here. She's not doing so good- we need to get her to a hospital. I don't know what exactly, but I think they've been doing something to her…"

"God damn, it!" Sadie closed her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief, "What kind of monsters…?"

"I know," Dean said quietly, putting his hand reassuringly on her shoulder.

Sadie looked up at him, her crystal blue eyes burning with frustration. "They can't get away with this, Agent Cass…"

"Dean," he offered, lifting his hand from her shoulder and accidentally touching her hair, "Call me Dean." Her bun was even messier than before, several curls hanging loosely around her face. Dean couldn't help but think that it suited her.

"Dean," she uttered softly, as they stared at each other.

"You ready?" Dean asked softly, though steel had returned to his voice.

She nodded, visibly shoring herself up. "Let's go!"

Dean nodded back to her and led the way to the stairs. He muttered a curse when he heard a door open above them. He spun around and whispered a harsh "Go!" as he and Sadie hurried back down. He heard Jennifer say, "It'll only take a minute, honey, I'm just gonna check on her…."

"Shit!" Dean and Jennifer hissed simultaneously.

It only took a few seconds before they heard, "Jason, she's gone!" Jennifer Billdon's footsteps pounding across the floorboards were all but drowned out by her blood-curdling scream that practically ripped through their eardrums.

"Good, that scream's probable cause," Sadie muttered under her breath as Dean shouted "Go, go!" to her. The two of them tore up each of the staircases. Jason came running out of a room to the right just as Dean hit the landing. He barely caught a glimpse of the blur before taking the brunt of the tackle as Jason ran straight into him; both of them hit the floor with such force that they slid for several feet. Sadie, who'd just reached the top of the left staircase, had to practically hurdle over them to avoid being knocked over. The two scrapped for Dean's gun; it got knocked out of his hand a moment later, skidding across the floor past Jennifer and slamming into one of the doors down the hall. Sadie winced with each blow of Jason's unhinged attack on Dean, the repeated blows to the Agent's head and mid-section, frenzied and vicious.

"Hey Manny!' she shouted at Jason while training her gun on him, "Get off him! Now!"

Her attention was drawn away to Jennifer, however, whose initial look of shock had melted away quickly when she realized what was happening. She turned away from the brawl to stalk towards Dean's gun. With a moment's indecision, Sadie rushed behind her

"Stop Mrs. Billdon!" she shouted, hearing the grunts of the two men fighting behind her, "This is over!"

"Maybe you didn't get the memo, cop, but I own this town!" Jennifer spun around with a taunting laugh, "The Mayor, your Sheriff, half your Department…that means I own you too! You can't touch me!"

"You're completely delusional if you think the Mayor isn't gonna treat you like a freaking pariah once your crimes have been exposed!" Sadie sneered, not failing to note that the woman was still inching her way towards the gun, "That over there is an F.B.I. agent, lady, in case you forgot. The _F.B.I_. is onto you _._ You've killed two people that we know of and its touch and go with Daniel right now…!"

"Daniel? Ha! That loser deserves everything he gets. He tried to turn Geoff against me- like it was any of his business who his brother slept with! I've heard that he's been living hand-to-mouth for years. He came here for the money, pure and simple, so don't pretend like he's some poor, sad grieving sap, here to save what's left of his family!"

"Stop moving!" Sadie shouted, shooting a round into the air as a warning and causing Jennifer to freeze instantaneously, "Think about what you're doing. Agent Cassidy and I are _law enforcement_! How do you think this is going to end! We can't just disappear, Mrs. Billdon. I don't care if you have _Santa Claus_ on your payroll, people _will_ ask questions…"

Sadie could see that her words were having an effect. She glanced quickly behind her, seeing that Dean and Jason were still going at it and then faced Jennifer again. "Please, Jennifer, this doesn't have to go any further. If you let me take you in, maybe…maybe Agent Cassidy and I can put in a good word for you. This doesn't have to cost you the rest of your life…."

"I don't…." Tears were streaming down Jennifer's face, "This is so fucked up! I don't…I don't…"

"Yeah, I don't think so, bitch!" Jason punched Sadie in her right flank causing her to drop immediately to her knees. He wrenched the gun from her hand and shouted at Jennifer to get Dean's from the ground. Jennifer picked it up but she was beginning to shut down, looking like she was working on autopilot. "I'm _not_ going back to jail! You heard Jenn, she can do whatever she wants in this shit town!"

"Just put the guns down," Sadie gasped from the floor, surreptitiously glancing back at Dean as she struggled to catch her breath. He appeared to be out cold. "You can't get away with any of this….Daniel can still pull through and Gracie's got cancer… no one can blame…"

The bullet lodged into her shoulder without warning and she yelled out in pain.

"Oh my God, don't you ever shut up?" Jason jeered, the Glock still pointed at her. Jennifer jumped at the noise and Jason reached out to pull her into his side.

"Are you really this clueless, Deputy? 'Cause clearly you're dumber than you look. Jennifer's been my old lady this _whole_ time. We're in this together and there's no way they're gonna be handing out plea bargains to either of us when they see my rap sheet."

"What rap sheet?" Sadie grimaced, putting pressure on her shoulder. She thanked her lucky stars that the bullet had gone straight through only muscle, "I did a background check when you first got to Bennett County. Other than a few speeding tickets and a stint in jail for a few misdemeanors, you were clean."

"Yeah, lady, _D.U.M.B,_ " Jason scoffed, kissing Jennifer's forehead before he let her go, "Jenn and I changed our names, Barney Fife and paid a lotta money for the privilege. We did it so annoying, meddling, suicidal cops like yourself would stay out of our business!"

"I don't understand," Sadie responded, with a slight whine in her voice. She was finally getting a handle on this guy. He clearly had a superiority complex and she had to use that to her advantage. Hopefully she could keep him distracted long enough. Besides, if he was talking to her, he wasn't focused on either Dean or Gracie, "How did you do all this?"

'Jason' laughed scornfully, " _Jenn_ and I were passin' through Bennett County and came across that crazy Jones lady's paper. She wrote an entire exposé about the Billdon family- how dear old Geoff Jr. was devastated after his wife died, how he had two little grieving kids. Figured Jenn could go in and work him hard and fast- maybe get a few bucks outta the deal. The brother Daniel knew _exactly_ what she was up to right off the bat, so we got ridda him real quick- Geoff cut him out completely. Couldn't believe when the dumb fuck actually _married_ her but the boy….the boy saw me and Jenn together that night while his daddy was working at the Nursery. He came home to find the kid in the pool. Let's just say I wasn't about to let some snot-nosed kid screw this up for us…." Jason's gun hand was shaking as he got more and more worked up.

"…See, Billdon had Jenn sign a prenup- she didn't get anything if they split up in the first five years but if _Geoff_ died, she'd get it all. So I _took care_ of the boy. Couldn't have him givin' daddy any ammunition for divorce, right? I wanted to get rid of Geoff right after that, but Jenn made me wait a whole year before I offed him. When they got married, Jenn started working in Accounts so it was real easy for her to frame him from the get go. She'd been bilking his private accounts and the business right under his nose the whole time. Made it look like the loving, grieving father had lost his way, gambling and embezzling from his own company. It was pure poetry- my girl's amazing!" Jason stopped to chuckle, drowning in his own self-aggrandizement and Sadie slowly moved her good arm behind her towards the gun she kept concealed in an ankle holster. She had to be really careful now and not let her fear get the better of her. There was no doubt in her mind that Jason was feeling pretty comfortable right now since he was giving this 'bad-guy monologue'. Not only was he feeling smarter than her-and enjoying it- but he was likely working up the nerve to murder two cops. Right now, she and Dean were on borrowed time.

"Why didn't you just take the money and leave?" Sadie asked, her hand finally reaching the clip on the holster. She managed to unclip it without Jason noticing and breathed an internal sigh of relief.

"We spent most of it, that's why. I…we…..owed money to some very dangerous people back home, and…. I had expenses."

"Like that leather jacket you're wearing or that Ford Expedition I saw outside?"

"….We had to be pretty careful- I had to hide four counties away in Bickford, we communicated by burner phone and only saw each other every few weeks," Jason ignored Sadie's question, "Only after his 'suicide _'_ did we learn that he'd just found out about me and was making plans to divorce Jenn. He started changing his will- put most of the money in a trust for Gracie 'til she hit 25 and left the running of the company and the house to a Conservator on the Board; Jenn was completely cut off from that shit. The spiteful prick left her a fuckin' 20 grand a year stipend to live on until Gracie inherits everything, the cheap bastard. And with all the bad blood between him and Daniel, he never got around to finding a new guardian for Gracie. Lucky really, 'cause that means Jenn gets everything if Gracie…"

"…if she dies...Oh my God!" Sadie was stunned. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, the lengths these animals had gone to in the name of money. Sadie glanced over at Dean who thankfully, was coming to. She had to keep this scumbag talking. Jennifer still looked like she was tuned out; the gun in her hand had progressively sagged and was no longer pointed in their direction.

"…I couldn't believe it when that alcoholic asshole Katt started putting two and two together. Man couldn't even diagnose a toothache and all of a sudden he was freaking Doctor C.S.I.. Robin took Gracie to him when she started getting sick. He came to see Jenn because he thought Gracie had gotten into something by accident. She tried explainin' it away but I could tell he wasn't gonna let it go. So we dug up some dirt on him- 5 years ago, he was drunk off his ass when he gave a kid a few counties over the wrong type of medication; it almost killed her. He got his lawyer to pay off the family to keep it quiet or he woulda been ruined. Fuckin' amazing that he'd managed to keep it a secret so long, really. When we threatened to out him, he shut up about Gracie. Lasted 6 months and then all of a sudden he decided to grow a conscience and threatened to go to the cops. I went to his house the other night and he was already half blitzed. I made him call his daughter and then forced the rest of the vodka down his throat. The man was so pickled it took almost two bottles to knock him on his ass. Thought we were home free but then the next thing we knew, the Sheriff was _offering his services_. He thought the Doc's death was suspicious and worked it out. He came to us, said he'd help clear our way to the Billdon fortune if Jenn agreed to give him 5 million dollars once she got her hands on the dough. He accepted a $10 000 lump sum payment 'til then, the greedy dickwad…."

"What did you do to Gracie?" Sadie demanded.

It was the first time that she saw any remorse on this monster's face. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, "The kid…she's sweet…no one wanted to see her suffer…Look, we thought giving her that stuff would be quick, you know..?"

"What stuff?" Sadie said quietly.

"That weedkiller stuff! We gave her a little everyday- I assumed it would just kill her…"

"Are….are you saying that you caused her cancer? Sadie exclaimed, horrified.

"…it worked out better, really," Jennifer muttered, almost to herself, "A child that dies suddenly raises questions. One that gets cancer, well, everyone brings you casseroles and prays for you at church on Sunday. That's why Robin…..She didn't really steal that morphine. _I_ hid it 'cause I needed a good excuse to get Jason into the house but then Robin…she saw me with the bottle of glyphosate in Gracie's room. She pretended like she didn't know what I was doing but it was obvious she did. Suddenly, she had some errand to run- wouldn't look me in the eye as she left. I followed her out to her car, tried to talk to her. She was scared, tore out of the driveway almost knocking me over. I got my car and chased after her; saw her reach for her phone. I panicked and I guess I nudged her car with mine…she just lost control and plowed into that tree. There was barely anything left of the car…" Jennifer closed her eyes, "There wasn't anything I could do so I go out of there and called the Sheriff. He said he'd take care of it…"

"So, let me get this straight, Jennifer," Sadie began, hoping this would work, "You let your boyfriend pimp you out to a man 30 years your senior for money. You come up with a great plan to steal some and this loser spends it paying back money he stole, SUVs, and expensive leather jackets. And instead of dumping this sociopath, staying faithful to your husband and living a life of luxury _forever_ , you decide to become a co-conspirator in the murder and attempted murder of 5 people, get stuck with $20,000 a year and a life sentence in a Supermax. Yeah, you're amazing Jennifer!"

Even though she knew that directly antagonising Jason was tantamount to begging to be shot again, Sadie had to make sure that he stayed off kilter and distracted. She'd finally gotten the Ruger out of its holster and could see in her peripheral vision that Dean's eyes were open; he was listening, playing possum. Her words had clearly pissed Jason off; he glared daggers at her, no doubt wanting to retaliate for the insults. Right now though, he was attempting to console Jennifer who'd dropped the gun to the floor, and was crying into his shoulder hysterically. Sadie could see from the corner of her eye that Dean was watching her and he'd moved his hand next to hers. He stared at her and without words she knew exactly what he wanted to do. She took one last look at Jason, only to find him marching determinedly towards her, his eyes frenzied. She gasped as he grabbed her by the hair, dragging her up from the floor.

"Now Deputy, I think it's time we finish up here," Jason grinned at her and then he began dragging her behind him to the staircase, "Gonna do it outside though. Don't wanna have to deal with the clean-up, you know?"

Sadie struggled the entire way, her bun finally loosening completely as he yanked at her hair roughly enough to pull out clumps, she was sure. He turned, no doubt to taunt her again when a fist flew past Sadie's head and landed squarely on his jaw. Sadie went flying as Dean shoved past her to get at Jason. She landed hard on her butt, slamming her injured shoulder into the wall behind her, barely managing not to hit her head. She groaned, momentarily stunned by the overwhelming pain. Even in her disorientation though, she could see that Dean seemed to be losing. She wasn't surprised; he'd been beaten to hell earlier. One of his eyes had almost swollen shut, the rest of face was bruised and bloodied and he was favouring his left arm. Jason laughed arrogantly, no doubt smelling imminent victory, and moved in to finish Dean off. Dean was leaning over, looking winded and like he was barely able to stay upright. Jason grabbed him by the head and Sadie almost turned away. All of a sudden, Dean dropped to one knee, slamming his fist into Jason's stomach and then kneeing him in the face as he popped back to his feet. Apparently, Dean had _way_ more reserve in the tank than she'd given him credit for. Jason went down like a ton of bricks, wheezing while blood spouted profusely from his nose. Sadie looked behind her to see that Jennifer was no longer petrified. She'd come out of her stupor now that Jason lay in a heap on the floor, and had rushed to the gun at her feet.

"Dean... _gun_!" Sadie screamed, as Jennifer picked up the Glock and aimed it in her direction. It was as if the whole thing was happening in slow motion- Sadie watched Dean spin right around and fire, all in the same action, the Ruger that she'd dropped in his hand when Jason had hauled her up earlier, aloft and smoking. Jennifer screamed, falling due to the bullet now lodged in her thigh. He pivoted immediately back to train the gun on Jason, who had managed to get to his feet and was about to attack him again.

"Don't, man" Dean warned him, "I _will_ shoot you!"

Jason wasn't paying attention though. Having seen Jennifer go down, his face was filled with rage and he practically roared as he charged. Dean shook his head once in resignation and fired. The bullet hit Jason in the chest, the impact causing him to shuffle backwards.

"No!" Sadie yelled, horrified as the inevitable played out in front of her. Jason had moved one step too many, his back foot missing the edge of the landing completely. His eyes widened in panic as his arms flailed wildly in the air. He teetered for a second before he fell out of sight, down the left staircase tumbling all the way to the bottom. Sadie winced, knowing she'd heard his neck snap before he'd even reached the bottom. She picked herself off the ground and stalked towards Jennifer, who was now whimpering and writhing on the floor. Tears streaming profusely from her eyes, she stared up at Sadie who stood over her, disgust and anger in her eyes.

"Shut up!" Sadie growled at her, pulling out her handcuffs and slapping one part onto Jennifer's wrist and the other around the leg of a heavy mahogany hall table. The Deputy winced through the motion, pain in her shoulder making every movement almost unbearable. "It's a flesh wound- you'll live. Now, you have the right to remain silent- use it!" She tugged off her belt with one hand and with great difficulty, managed to tighten it around Jennifer's thigh to act as a tourniquet to stem the bleeding.

Dean staggered over, one arm holding onto his ribs as he shuffled to Gracie's door, picking up his gun along the way. "You all right?" he asked Sadie, as he passed her.

"Yeah," she nodded, with a final glare at Jennifer, "Move and I'll shoot you in the other leg!"

He entered the bedroom, immediately going to the armoire and calling Gracie's name as he opened the door. She was even paler than he'd left her. He reached out with a shaking hand and felt for a pulse, closing his eyes when he realised how cool her skin was. He didn't want to believe it, but it was painfully obvious when her arm flopped lifelessly to the ground that she was gone. Dean barely held it together as he picked her up as gently as he could with only one good arm and placed her on the bed. Sadie came through the door a moment later, "How is…Oh God, is she…?"

"Yeah," he replied, his voice only a whisper, as he smoothed her hair back from her forehead.

The room suddenly got colder and then, " _D_ … _Dean_ ….?" Sadie's voice broke with fear as she grasped his good arm tightly, pulling him around to face the bedroom window. The ghosts of Stevie and Grace were standing there with matching smiles, holding hands. As they drifted closer, Dean realised that Stevie looked different this time- like a 'regular' ghost- still pale and transparent but now without that overwhelming bright light radiating from his body.

"Are….are you seeing this?" Sadie stammered in disbelief," I…I didn't know what I thought, but I never….I didn't think they were real!"

"Uh…Sadie, there are…maybe a few things I need to tell you about my line of work," Dean said, taking Sadie's hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

"Stevie's taking me home, Dean," Gracie said, excitedly.

Dean nodded, unable to speak for a moment, then he said, "Gracie…I'm so sorry I didn't get to you sooner."

She moved closer to him, letting go of Stevie and giggling when her hand went right through Dean's arm, "It's okay, Dean, now I can be with Mommy and Daddy, too!"

"Honey.."

"Thank you," Stevie said simply, recapturing his sister's hand. Gracie waved at Dean and their forms dematerialised, becoming white balls of light that meandered through the air and then disappeared out the window towards the sky.

"What…what was that?" Sadie said breathlessly, as Dean turned to her and sighed.

"Their souls….going to Heaven. Deput…Sadie," he began, not really wanting to have this conversation, "My name is Dean Winchester and I…I'm not _really_ with the F.B.I. The other Agents I came here with, that was my brother Sam and my mother Mary. We're hunters. We investigate the supernatural….phenomena like ghosts. It's why we came to Bennett County. Ghosts usually don't move on to the afterlife if they want to avenge some wrong that was done to them. We thought that might be happening with Stevie…"

"I…I don't believe this…" Sadie stammered turning away, a stunned look on her face, "Hunters? This is…. a real thing you do?"

"I'm sorry we..I…lied to you, but this isn't really a line of work you advertise. We wanted to stop Stevie from hurting anyone else but, I guess, we both realised that something wasn't right. He was like some kind of omen or something. I've never come across a ghost like him before…"

"And you and your family like to impersonate F.B.I. Agents in the process?" her voice got hard, a hint of betrayal in her eyes, "I trusted you with information that could get me fired. I was counting on your help with bringing the Sheriff, the Department and the Mayor down. What am I supposed to do now?"

"I could say the same thing about you," Dean retorted defensively, "Betty? Your Aunt?"

Sadie put her arms across her chest and glared at him. "I know what some people in this town think of my aunt….can you imagine what it would've been like working in the Sheriff's Department if that blowhard, Raine knew who I was? Honestly, I….."

Dean shook his head, stepping towards her and holding her by the shoulders. He stared directly into her eyes and said softly, "Sadie, I get it, and it's okay. And so is all this. It's over. Now you know what to look for, you've got enough to bring in the real F.B.I.. There's no way for Jennifer to pay her way out of this, same with the Sheriff. That $10 000 deposit has got to have a paper trail. My guess, they'll turn on each other before the ink on the search warrants dries. No way a crooked Sheriff is gonna want to spend the next 25 years to life in gen pop…."

"You know an awful lot for someone that was supposed to be out cold on the floor," Sadie scoffed, then her eyes narrowed, "That jerk shot me while you were playing dead."

"Hey, I was injured too. Besides, I was getting my second wind while waiting for the right opening," Dean retorted with mock indignation.

"Yeah, I did notice when you had your ass handed to you earlier," Sadie teased.

The two stared at each other in a companionable silence, Dean's hand itching to push her long hair back from her face.

"Dean!" he could hear Sam screaming from downstairs, his brother's loud stomping footsteps making their way up the floating staircase, " _Dean!_ "

"In here!" he called out to Sam.

Dean and Sadie were still just standing in front of each other when Sam tore into the room, gun drawn and face frantic. "Jesus," he said as he stopped in the doorway, and took in Dean's and Sadie's injuries. Mary arrived a moment later, her face horrified when she saw her son.

"Dean!" she cried, "What the hell happened?"

Sadie glanced over at Sam who was watching them both with a calculating look and then at Mary, her face the very picture of deep frustration. She turned back to Dean, "Go. You have to get your family out of here. I, uh, might have misled you about something else. I called the F.B.I. in Omaha on the way here. They should be here in maybe 15 minutes…"

Sadie paused when Dean gave her the patented Winchester Glare, crossing his arms across his chest for the full effect. She wasn't intimidated in the least.

"Don't give me that look. You lied to me, remember? There was something about the way you accepted all the talk about ghosts that didn't sit right with me. Then of course, the F.B.I. had never heard of you….."

"Yet you came anyway?" Dean asked.

"Well, I knew that you and Gracie were in danger. Plus, I have a pretty good instinct about these things…I mean, it's not like I didn't _not_ trust you….exactly. At first I considered arresting you if we made it out of here…..."

"And now?"

"Now," Sadie looked over at Sam and Mary again," Not so much."

They both noticed Mary leaving the room, Sam staring after her.

"I can stay until they get here," Dean offered quietly, more impressed than angry with the Deputy, "The Sheriff…"

"It's okay, really. There are still a few good seeds in the Bennett County P.D. I got some of them at the motel crime scene and a few keeping the Sheriff under surveillance. I'll keep this scene secure until the F.B.I. get here…I'll figure out some way of keeping you all out of it." Sadie straightened, steel returning to her voice as her face took on a determined look.

Dean waited for a beat and then said to her, "I..I'm sorry. I…I don't know what else to say."

"There's nothing else _to_ say. I…..You just need to stay safe."

Dean dropped his hands awkwardly to his sides and nodded. He turned to walk away shaking his head at Sam who'd opened his mouth, a question dying on his tongue. Sam nodded slightly and left the room to re-join Mary who was covering Jennifer. Dean stopped just inside the doorway, turning to see Sadie staring after him.

"Dean?" Sadie called uncertainly, "Do you, uh, pass through Nebraska sometimes?"

Dean stood there, momentarily taken aback and then he smiled, "Sometimes. You ever get to Kansas?"

Sadie matched his grin, coming to stand in front of him, her eyes soft as she gazed up at him, "Sometimes."

"That number you called me from tonight, is that your private cell?" he asked, his hand coming up slowly to caress her cheek.

"Yeah," she whispered, "Yours?"

"Yeah," he replied, his eyes riveted to her mouth.

"Good," she leaned into his caress, closing her eyes.

Dean could feel the energy between them, almost electric in its intensity and he leaned over and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering a little as the smell of her shampoo hit his senses- a mix of vanilla, cinnamon and apples. Apple pie. He stepped away from her and with one last smile, he walked out the door.

* * *

"So fine, I'll say it, you were right," Sam said, as he shut down his laptop and put it into his bag. They'd hightailed it back to the Motel 6, the intention to pack up and get the hell out of Dodge, pronto. Mary had just finished packing up her room and was out putting her stuff in the convertible. Sam, his curiosity overtaking all else, had stopped to do some research on his laptop.

"Yeah," Dean replied, "One of these days, I'm going to get that printed on a t-shirt for you so you'll remember it."

"Uh, no thanks," Sam said with fake disgust, "Don't think you need anyone else stroking your ego. You do enough of that on your own."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"So, I think Stevie was something called a 'kindermorderinn' - at least that's what they call them in German folklore. The British call them 'Radiant Boys'…"

"Radiant Boys?" Mary said with an undertone of derision, as she walked back into Sam and Dean's room.

"Yeah, I guess because of the way they glow- like they're almost on fire or something. They're the spirits of children who appear as omens to people who're about to die. The kids themselves were usually murdered by their parents- often the mothers. I guess when you and Deputy Gordon closed the case, Stevie's unfinished business was over and he became an _ordinary ghost_."

"I know this'll sound terrible, but I can't help but think that Gracie is better off," Mary said, grabbing one of Sam's bags and starting to gather the stuff off his bed, "Are we ready to g…?"

" _Better off_?" Dean interrupted with a deceptively even tone, "You think that that 8 year old girl who had her whole life ahead of her is better off dead because two greedy, remorseless killers thought she was sweet but an _inconvenience_?"

Mary dropped the duffel on the bed and stared at her son. She knew him. Clearly he was itching for a fight. What she didn't know for sure was whether he was upset about the case or if he had a specific beef with her. Either way, she was sure that she had a bone to pick with _him_. It just wasn't the right time; they had to get out of Nebraska, like yesterday and she told him so.

"No!" Dean slammed his duffel on the floor angrily, turning to face his mother, "I think it's the _perfect_ time for this conversation!"

"Guys…" Sam said with a placating tone.

"Shut up!" they both shouted at him simultaneously, not even sparing him a glance as they glared at each other.

"Fine, I'll start," Mary said, trying to keep her tone civil, "What was _that_?"

"What was what?" Dean asked.

"We're supposed to be a _team_. Running off to that house by yourself on some hunch was just unprofessional, idiotic and dangerous! Have you seen yourself? You look like someone beat the tar out of you…."

"Whoa!" Dean snapped, holding up his good hand, "It wasn't _some hunch_. I was right, if you recall. You two were all about the vengeful spirit theory and you weren't exactly entertaining any other ideas. I did what I had to do. Sure, it got a little rough, but I'm standing here and I'm breathing. That's the game…"

"This isn't some game!" Mary shouted, startling both men, "You could have been killed!"

"Okay, both of you calm down!" Sam interjected, not wanting this to devolve into a Winchester brawl. He'd been through enough of these with their father to know that it wasn't going to end well.

"That's the job, Mom, one I've been doing for quite a while before you got back here!"

"And I get that, Dean, but surely you would have learned the fundamentals by now! You always make sure you pack extra salt rounds, Holy Water is not for drinking, and you never, ever leave your team behind and sneak off to play hero!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Dean barked, his anger completely unleashed now.

"Dean, calm down!" Sam tried to de-escalate the situation but was ignored.

"You heard me!" Mary shouted back, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Those must be the Campbell Family rules, 'cause from what I've been seeing of you in action, you're just like Samuel…"

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"The _level_ of your enthusiasm on the job hasn't been sitting right with me since you got back!" Dean retorted, mirroring his mother's stance.

"What are you talking about?" Mary sneered, barely able to stand still.

"That hardass act at the Vet's, for one. I know what you're gonna say, "I was just trying to get the phone number out of him!" but I watched you like a hawk. You _liked_ what you were doing! You _liked_ seeing that guy scared as shit of you! I've seen that look in other hunters' eyes, hunters that are all about the kill. Like _Samuel Campbell_. He would _never_ have taken the time to understand what was actually going on here and I see that same 'shoot first ask questions never' attitude in you, too. If we'd followed _that_ philosophy we wouldn't be standing here arguing over a _successful_ hunt!"

" _Shut up_ , Dean!" Sam tried again, knowing that this fight, between two stubborn halves of the same whole, was going to have a catastrophic end.

"Your grandfather was all business. He would've been able to wrap this up without needing to go off half-cocked like some rookie because you felt sorry for some lump of ectoplasm…."

"You're talking about the ghost of that murdered child, right?" Dean asked incredulously.

"That's what I said!" Mary replied, anger getting the best of her. She knew this was spiralling out of control but she didn't know how to pull it back; Dean was pushing all her buttons.

Dean stopped for a moment and stared at his mother, not wanting to take the bait any longer. He knew what this was _really_ about and it was time for her to admit it.

"You know I'm done with defending myself here, especially when we both know what the hell this is really about," he began, then his voice suddenly calmed, "This isn't about Stevie or Gracie…..this is about Emma, right?"

Mary visibly deflated a little. She turned around and sat down heavily with a huge sigh.

"I don't know…maybe. When I went up to Lawrence….I was trying to find some remnants of the life I remembered…..and all I felt was loss. I spent a lot of time thinking about you and your brother- about how your lives have turned out over these past 30 years, about what your Dad and I wanted for you and mostly, about what could've been." Mary looked at both of her boys, her eyes filled with sorrow, "I looked up the Amazons, Dean, and there's no way around it…she's gonna grow up, real fast apparently and she's gonna want to kill you…."

"Look Mom," Sam glanced between Mary and his brother, "We…we think that having Emma with us now, this time as a baby, we'll be able to teach her a better way…"

Mary, who'd been staring at the worn carpet when Sam had piped in, looked up slowly, eyes blazing.

"What do you mean, 'this time'?" her head flipped back and forth between her sons, "Dean? What does he mean?"

Dean glared at his brother though he wasn't _really_ angry with him. It was probably best that all of their dirty laundry get aired out now anyway so, despite the look on his face, he was encouraging when he said, "Go ahead, Sammy." There was no rebuke in Dean's tone; he didn't want Sam feeling any more guilt over spilling the beans. It'd been Dean's responsibility to be honest with their mother from the beginning and he'd screwed things up royally.

Sam stuttered at the beginning but eventually launched into the full, unedited story of Emma's first life and of her resurrection from Purgatory. Dean had grabbed the last of their beers from the mini fridge and had knocked back most of it by the time Sam had concluded the tale.

Mary's face was emotionless at first and then she stood up slowly, addressing Dean.

"And so you figure, that what? You can change her nature with a lot of love and Kumbaya crap? She's a killer, Dean, one that literally has to cut your limbs off in order to fulfil what's been imprinted for thousands of years in her God-damned DNA!"

"Listen.."

"No you listen, Dean. I haven't really been sleeping since I got back. In fact, I've spent a bunch of long nights reading. Reading John's journal and a set of books by Carver Edlund ….I can't believe what you and your brother have been through! I didn't want _any_ of this for either of you! You had your whole lives ahead of you! You might have been settled down with your own families, with normal careers and children that weren't monsters…..!"

"Mom!" Sam warned, seeing Dean's ire flare at that last statement.

"….that's why I got out. Because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with your father. I wanted to have you kids, grow old with John, spoil my grandchildren…"

"Let me remind you that Azazel killed your parents and threatened to kill Dad. _You're_ the one that made a deal for that Demon douchebag to come back for Sam if only he'd spare your husband!" Dean's voice had taken on a cold, hard edge that Sam dreaded. It usually meant that whatever was about to come out of Dean's mouth next, was designed to aim for the jugular, no matter who it was directed against or the subsequent consequences.

"And might I remind _you_ that if I hadn't made that deal, neither of you would be alive right now either!" Mary's eyes were flashing and her jaw was clenched tightly.

"All right, that's enough!" Sam shouted, trying to end this before it could get any worse- and he was sure it could, "Dean, our mother's just come back to us after 3 decades! We _all_ need some time to re-adjust and we will, because we're family! And Mom, Dean just about gave up his life to raise me. When you died, Dad was so broken and hell bent on revenge that he forgot he had two _sons-_ not just one soldier in training and one disappointment. That's how he saw us when we were growing up by the way; Dean was his second in command in his never-ending war against the Supernatural and I was never going to be good enough or man enough to live up to that expectation. You wanted a different future for us, I get it, but that ship has sailed. Emma is Dean's daughter- that's a fact. He lost her once when I shot and killed her. He tried to hide it from me but I know him; he never got over it. Now he has another chance with her, and I'm going to help him take it, with or without your blessing!"

The silence after Sam's speech was deafening. It lasted more than a few minutes, none of the three even twitching as they battled to come to terms what had just transpired. Finally, Mary got up, swinging the duffel she'd abandoned to the floor, up onto her shoulder.

"I'm heading back to the Bunker," she announced simply, heading to and straight out the motel door without a backwards glance at either of them.

Sam and Dean stared at each other as they heard the car pull away.

* * *

Several hours later, Dean found his mother in the kitchen of the Bunker, halfway through eating an entire peach pie laden with vanilla ice-cream. He entered the room silently, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the fresh pot his mother must have made. He and Sam had made the long journey back to Lebanon in complete silence, both lost in their thoughts over that terrible blow-up. On their arrival back at the Bunker, Sam and Dean had looked in on Claire and Emma from the bedroom doorway. Claire had pushed Emma's crib into her room and both were sound asleep; Claire sprawled across her bed and Emma, a cute little blob under her Batman blankets. They'd grunted goodnights to each other and Sam had disappeared down the hallway to his room while Dean had headed to the kitchen for something to eat.

Seeing his mother sitting there in her dressing gown, drowning her hurt in pie just like he would, softened his anger towards her and he soon found himself with a large spoon in his hand, sitting next to her. He dug out a large scoop of the pie and brought it to his mouth. It was Heaven. They ate in silence for a while until Mary decided to speak.

"I see Castiel healed you?"

"Yeah. Popped in and out before we left the Motel 6. Wasn't happy about having to leave…whatever he's been up to. He won't say…."

They were silent for a few more minutes, the tension and awkwardness almost stifling.

"I met an acquaintance of yours a half hour ago," Mary said quietly, glancing at Dean's quizzical expression, "I have to say, for a secret Bunker, there are a surprising number of supernatural creatures and unwelcomed guests that just pop in whenever they want."

Dean's hackles rose immediately. "What are you talking about?" he asked, acid in his tone.

"Someone named Billie just appeared here in the kitchen while I was making some coffee. Said she heard a rumour and came to meet the 'latest Winchester to cheat death', for herself. She claimed it was her mission in life to know each and every intimate detail about the Winchester Family and was surprised she hadn't gotten the memo about Emma- but "abominations really aren't her domain." She said she'd be keeping an eye out in case any other Winchesters felt like, and I'm quoting here, "clawing out of their graves."

Mary had been focused on the pie in front of her but then she turned her eyes to Dean, "She warned me about dying again- said it would be her pleasure to put any of us Winchesters out of their misery. Then she told me to remind you, well, all of us really, that we were on borrowed time and then she disappeared. Who is she, Dean?"

Dean closed his eyes for a moment and tried to stay calm. Billie's unscheduled visit had only served to mess this delicate situation up even further. He launched into a story detailing their tumultuous history with the Reaper. Mary remained stoic throughout most of the conversation but he could tell that the damage had been done.

"I'm sorry, Mom, for the way things went down today. I know you're just worried about me and you're right, I went off like an idiot trying to prove something and things could have gone even worse. But Sam's right too; we _all_ need time to adjust to this new…. _arrangement_. You have no idea how happy I am that you're back home with us now and that we have this second chance, _just_ like I have with Em." He reached out and held her hand and his mother squeezed back, a weak smile on her face.

"That's just it, Dean, I'm _not_ home. I'm grieving. I'm grieving for my baby Sam, for my little boy Dean, and for the love of my life, John. In my mind, in my memories, I was just in Heaven with all of you, but now _those_ people are gone. Every moment I spend with you now reminds me of every moment I lost with them. And whenever I think of Emma…..she reminds me of all the other monsters that have been responsible for the tragedies in my life. When she becomes what she's _going_ to become, and she _will,_ Dean, then _another_ monster is gonna be responsible for taking my son away from me- _again_." Mary paused for a moment, her voice then becoming tremulous, "I thought working that case would help clear my head, help me to come to terms with all this but it didn't work. I love you and Sammy, I do, but I think… I think I need some time alone."

"Mom," Dean said softly, his voice full of regret as he absorbed her words, "Please….don't do this. Today was…I know we can work this out about Emma but that'll be impossible if you aren't here…."

"I'm sorry, Dean, but I've made up my mind. I just wanted to wait until you and your brother got back to the Bunker so I could say goodbye. I'm gonna take off after I talk to Sam."

She stood up from the table and Dean, still in shock, mirrored her action. She grabbed him to her, hugging him tightly though she realised with deep anguish, that he didn't hug her back. She left the room quickly, not looking back. If she had, she would have seen her usually stubbornly-stoic son's face crumple in despair.

* * *

Claire hurried out of the corridor as she heard Mary's final words to Dean. Having woken up slightly disoriented in her room a few minutes ago, Supernatural #22 'Mystery Spot' stuck under her head, she'd decided to get a glass of water before going back to sleep. Earlier, she'd decided to kill two birds with one stone- using one of the Supernatural books as material for Emma's bedtime story while finding out a bit more about Sam and Dean. She'd just retrieved the next in the series and had returned to Emma's crib, when she'd gotten the shock of her life. It had taken all of the ensuing 5 hours to get over it. She'd been trying to stay awake ever since Dean had texted that they were on the way back, planning on tearing him a proverbial 'new one' but she'd obviously failed.

Claire had heard his voice as she made her way to the kitchen. As she drew closer and was psyching herself up to confront the jerk and really let him have it, she caught some of the conversation he was having with Mary. Realising how serious the situation was, she'd chosen to linger in the hallway instead, curiosity definitely getting the better of her. Mary's words had stunned and outraged her on both Emma and Dean's behalf. Years had passed and still, Claire would have given _anything_ to have her mother back so she understood how Sam and Dean felt about Mary's return. But if Amelia Novak had just said those things about a daughter of Claire's, well, Claire would probably be glad to see the back of her. She assumed that Dean was feeling the same way right now. Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping and with the Winchesters' conversation evoking her own bittersweet yet painful memories of her mother, Claire went back to her room, deciding to keep Emma's confession to herself for the time being. Losing your newly resurrected mother was one thing but gaining Emma, the talking toddler all in the same day would probably be all Dean could handle at the moment anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **A/N: So sorry to have been M.I.A. for so long. Went on holiday and subsequently had jetlag for 3 weeks in two different hemispheres and then went straight back to crazy hours at work. Here's an extra-long chapter to make up for it. Please read and review. Enjoy!**

"You took your sweet time getting here, didn't you, Wings? It's not like we're taking part in the greatest international manhunt the world has ever seen, or anything!" Crowley sneered as Castiel approached them.

A glare appeared on the angel's face although his tone was flat when he said, "I'm here now. Be grateful I came at all." He glanced over at Rowena, who was looking decidedly bored by the exchange, "What is she doing here?"

"Spending all that time with Moose and Squirrel must have addled your brain completely if you're asking questions as stupid as that. We need Mother, here, to help us track down and neutralize Lucifer. Perhaps you've succumbed to Sam's patented brand of Midwest 'Aww, shucks' naiveté now that Dean is dead?" Crowley smirked, taking a sip of his Scotch.

"Dean's not dead," Castiel replied, sitting on the couch across from them.

"Really?" the other man leaned forward in his seat, genuinely surprised, "How…?"

"Do I _really_ need to be here for this?" Rowena cut in, her tone irritated, "Why is it _always_ about the Winchesters with you, Fergus? You hear that discount lumberjack's name and what little common sense you have goes out the window!"

Crowley glowered at her for a second before he answered. "Mother's right. We should get down to business. I've called you here, Castiel, because we've got a lead on Lucifer. While you were…doing whatever it is you do, Mother and I've been tracking him across the country. The fight with Amara must have weakened him because he's been bouncing around from vessel to vessel, burning through them ever faster until two days ago when he landed in the body of Vince Vincente…"

He paused as Castiel stared at him blankly. "Honestly," Crowley looked to Rowena, who was already in the process of rolling her eyes, "When did you become more Neanderthal and less divine? Vincent Vincente? The internationally renowned rock star with more than 30 million albums sold and legions of screaming girls who've literally sold their souls to spend one night with him…"

"Yeah, alright, he sings," Castiel agreed, "Why do you need me if you know where he is?"

"Because in hindsight, I wish I'd made Fergus' middle name 'Failure' to reflect his unimpressive history as a master-strategist. My son tracked me down a week ago with a 'foolproof' plan claiming that he had translations from some _Angel tablet_ that could trap an Archangel…."

"You have the Angel Tablet?" Castiel growled, sitting forward on the seat, his eyes reflecting his intense anger.

"Duhhhh!" Crowley waved his hand dismissively, ignoring the angel's growing agitation, "I've taken to collecting old, decrepit relics that _may_ still be of some use to me. Take Mother here for example. She assured me that she could use said translations, mix them with a spell or two and abracadabra Lucifer out of existence. All she did was piss him off when she cast him out of an L.A. socialite's meat-suit into a has-been rocker with prostate trouble and arthritis…!"

"The magic was sound," Rowena interjected, her voice shrill with anger, "It was your stupidity and incompetence that dropped us in this disaster. You dragged me into this under duress, and now I'm on that sociopath's radar again!" Rowena gave the subject of her ire a filthy look, "We were lucky to get out alive!"

"So what do you want from me?" Castiel said, mention of the Angel Tablet aggravating old, painful memories.

"I think we can all agree that having Lucifer free upstairs is detrimental to all of us. And of course, now that he knows that Fergus and I are after him, there isn't anywhere we can hide. We'll need help if we're going to live through your screw up!" Rowena spat at Crowley who brushed off the lapel of his Armani jacket, pretending to look supremely unconcerned.

"And why would I care if Lucifer obliterated either of you?" Castiel sat back, trying to exhibit his own fake nonchalance; neither man was successful.

"Tell me something, _angel_. Where is God right now? Or dear Auntie Amara, for that matter?" Crowley took a large swallow of his drink, Castiel falling silent and staring at him suspiciously, clearly wondering about this change of subject.

"They're…gone. Dean says they left for a while to learn how to reconnect as a family…."

Crowley guffawed, seemingly genuinely amused as he smirked at Cass. "Isn't this the second time Daddy Dearest has gone AWOL when you needed his help against Lucifer? Really, I didn't think that parents were supposed to play favourites…."

He paused to let this sink in, seeing from Castiel's immediate frown that his words had struck some deep lingering resentment from all those years ago when God hadn't answered his repeated calls for help stopping the Apocalypse.

Crowley glanced at his mother, who smirked back and then he said with a note of fake sincerity that was lost on the angel, "You know, it wasn't that long ago that witches, demons and angels worked together against The Darkness…..From what you've said, Castiel, it seems that our efforts were a roaring success. The world….all of us…we're still here…"

"I'm thinking we should get the gang back together and let, well, _recent_ history repeat itself." the demon's voice took on an almost seductive tone as he recognized the angel's resolve crumbling before him, "Think about what this will mean. We've just saved the world- _you_ were instrumental in that. Sacrificed yourself for the greater good- became Lucifer's vessel and worked from the inside to defeat The Darkness. Imagine how much street-cred that gives you with your feathery brethren. The absolution, the respect… your _self_ -respect. Just one more mission and maybe they'll welcome you back into the fold and offer you your very own high chair at the Heavenly round table when you've brought Lucifer to his knees. You'll finally be able to stop moulting…re-stuff some of those withering feathers of yours…"

"And then you won't be such a pathetic shell of your former self. Do you really need the Winchesters patting your head to give you some self-worth?" Rowena whispered, twisting the knife even further, "You need to do this for mankind, Castiel, but more importantly, for yourself…..for once."

Crowley glared briefly at his mother, thinking she'd gone too far but a glance at the angel made it clear that he was caught up in his own tumultuous thoughts.

Cass knew that he was being manipulated but he couldn't deny that their words were affecting to him.

"And what are you getting out of this, Crowley?" he asked warily.

"My end game here is simple. I'm the King of Hell and I want it to stay that way."

"And you?" Castiel said looking at Rowena.

"Fergus has promised to give me a quick, wee look at the rest of the translations from the Angel Tablet but, more importantly, he's agreed to leave me alone….for eternity."

After years of working with him and against him, Castiel could tell that behind the bluster and sarcasm, Crowley was scared; he could understand the sentiment. Having let Lucifer out of the cage by volunteering to be his meat-sack this past year, Cass was the one ultimately responsible for any and all resulting destruction. He knew _exactly_ the kind of power that Lucifer wielded. Coupled with his black-hearted soul, there really wasn't a choice in this situation.

"Fine," he sighed resignedly, "What do you need?"

"I _may_ have found another spell in the Book of the Damned," Rowena smiled smugly, "Lucifer has been discarding his trail of breadcrumb bodies all over because as vessels, they weren't strong enough to hold him for long. If I'm right, this spell will bind him to this rock star's vessel….."

"..And then we'll destroy him once and for all," Crowley slammed his glass onto the table.

"That seems rather….simplistic," Castiel stared between the two, his look skeptical, "What's the catch?"

"No catch."

Castiel knew better than to believe any word coming out of Crowley's mouth. The King of Hell always had an angle and anyone unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity when it came to fruition, usually had a way of ending up dead. He narrowed his eyes at the demon, and said anyway, "All right, tell me everything."

* * *

Dean had been awake for the better part of ten hours, having watched his mother leave some eight hours ago for parts unknown. He'd heard his brother pleading with her all the way to the exit. Mary had sounded very conflicted and apologetic, but she'd left all the same. Dean had emerged a few minutes after that from the kitchen, game face on. This wasn't the first time that he'd had to be the bedrock for the team. It was obvious what impact the situation was having on Sam- his brother had beat a hasty retreat to his room and hadn't been seen since. Dean, himself, had spent most of the early hours of the morning drinking beer and combing the internet for cases. He'd also tried contacting Castiel an hour ago. Despite popping in just long enough to heal him in Nebraska, the angel had been particularly conspicuous by his absence. Castiel had appeared in the Motel 6, acting as if the call for help had been a supreme inconvenience. He'd touched Dean's forehead, all the while grumbling under his breath and had disappeared before Dean could ask what he'd been up to or tell him about Claire's request. Frankly, with everything that had been going on over the past few days, it had just served to piss Dean off even more. The best thing he could do for himself and his brother right now, was to find a case and get on the road. He was about to take another pull of his beer when he heard Claire's Converse squeaking across the floor towards him.

"Before you say anything- especially about the beer, I'm not in the mood." Dean didn't even glance at her as she dropped unceremoniously into the chair next to him.

"That's gonna be too bad," she replied, an edge to her tone that made Dean turn in his seat and look over at her.

"Yeah, how's that?" he asked icily, giving her the patented Winchester glare.

"Was there something you, I don't know, maybe forgot to let me in on before you left?" she asked, ignoring the look he was giving her. She was on the right side of this, damn it!

"How much I enjoy being interrogated by Veronica Mars?" Dean deadpanned, his eyes narrowing to slits.

" _Emma_ , Dean! Your _baby_ girl is now like _3 years old_ …!" Claire slapped Dean's arm with a huff, "…and she acts like she's twice that age! I almost had a heart attack when I checked in on her after you left….Hey!"

Dean was already halfway out into the hall as he made a beeline for Claire's bedroom. He burst through the door, finding Emma sitting on the bed, trying to read one of the Supernatural books.

"Uhhhhh, no," he said, plucking it out of her hand, "You're not allowed to read those until you're 35, kid."

Emma stared up at Dean, a bright smile on her face. "Daddy!" She held her arms up in the air and Dean immediately scooped her up.

"Baby," Dean hugged her for a minute and then set her back down on the bed.

"I missed you, Daddy. Claire said you were working but you were gone so long! I thought you weren't comin' back!"

"Yeah, and when I realized that you'd actually _asked_ me a question, you scared me didn't you, Em?" Claire smiled at the little girl but turned a scowl on her father. "Imagine my surprise when that happened, Dean?"

"Okay, there _are_ a few details I may have left out. We'll talk about it when young ears aren't listening, okay?

"Uh huh." Claire could only imagine how many half-truths he'd think up between now and then. She knew exactly how the brothers' Winchester operated and she wasn't under any illusions that they saw her as equally productive member of the team….yet. 'Til then, they'd be doing their best to _protect_ her. She was going to have to think of some way to change all that. Taking care of Emma was a great first step, one she enjoyed really, but if the girl's sudden growth spurt was any indication, the position of _baby_ sitter was going to become redundant really soon.

She still couldn't believe it. Seeing a three year old in the crib where she'd placed a six month old only a few hours prior, had scared at least ten years off her life. Claire had gone back into the Panic room, her fascination with the place fueled by overwhelming curiosity, had gotten the better of her. Starting with the pantry (where she'd come to the swift realization that if she didn't want to starve during any future Armageddons, she was going to have to find a supermarket and fast), she spent the next half hour trying to figure out the complicated control panels. Pressing a few random buttons set off alarms throughout the Bunker as well as a sequence of lockdown mechanisms that had her trapped for the better part of an hour. When she'd finally managed to free herself, she had raced back to her room to check on Emma only to find the crib empty. Her breath had caught in her throat for a second before she let out a string of swear words that would've made even Dean blush. A horrible thought flitted through her mind as she'd torn up her room, searching for Em. Had her playing around with the Bunker's security system allowed some intruder to take the baby? She let that sink in for a moment, on the cusp of a full blown panic attack when she'd heard the noise. The fact that Claire had subsequently found a _toddler_ giggling under the bed hadn't really done anything to decrease her anxiety. In fact, she'd screamed like she'd been confronted by the Boogeyman.

The little girl had laughed heartily at the sound, proceeding to tell Claire that she was hungry and that she wanted to know where her Daddy was. When Claire had asked her name, the child had stared at her in confusion and then giggled again, saying "Emma" like she thought the older girl was teasing her. Claire, on the other hand wondered just how many forms of torture Dean might have learned in his many years as a hunter. Did one lose a few limbs first or was it just a bullet to the head for almost breaking both the secret lair and baby daughter of a Winchester? Emma had then crawled out, plopping herself down almost onto Claire's feet. She'd lifted her arms into the air prompting the still stunned older girl into action. Emma babbled about what kind of pie she wanted once they'd made it to the kitchen. Frankly, it had been that more than anything else that had confirmed the kid's identity for Claire. Shaking her head incredulously, she'd gotten Emma to settle for chocolate chip pancakes instead, letting the girl add the chips and help stir the batter. When they were both stuffed to the gills, Claire had started a gentle interrogation.

"I don't really know," Em had replied, swirling her finger through the maple syrup on her plate, "When I woked up just now…. I was just….me but I wasn't. My head was kinda fuzzy but then I remembered you, and Daddy and Uncle Sammy and….."

"And what?" Claire had asked, pulling the plate away and cleaning Emma's hands and face. The girl had squirmed the whole time and then pouted.

"Come on, Em, just let me finish," Claire had cajoled as the girl finally settled, "Okay, all done. Now, you remembered all of us and then…..? If you tell me, I'll read you more Supernatural stories at bedtime….."

The child glanced around furtively, as if she was afraid that someone else would overhear. Claire, reading her body language, lowered her voice to a whisper and said, "We can keep it our secret, honey."

Emma had stared at the table for a moment and then, with tears in her eyes, had pleaded with Claire not to tell her Daddy. Claire had reached over and picked Emma up, setting her down in her lap and cuddling her. Emma's anguished little voice had been tremulous and fearful as she'd confessed to Claire about the strange, scary dream that she'd had, even as a baby- of monsters with big teeth and horrible eyes, of the never-ending trees in the woods and of being cold and scared all the time.

Emma shook the whole time and Claire had squeezed her a little tighter, rocking them both gently. "It's okay, Em."

"Sometimes, just before I wake up, I…..I see Daddy in the 'bad place'. It always makes me feel…"

"Feel what, Em?"

"Like I knew him before….before I was born."

"And…and that scares you?" Claire was shocked, but tried not to show it for Emma's sake.

"I don't want Daddy to know!" Emma cried, looking up at the older girl, "Please Claire! You promised!"

"Okay, Emma, It's all right. I won't tell him," Claire kissed the child's forehead, "I pinky swear, okay?"

Emma nodded and snuggled into Claire's chest. She closed her eyes, missing the look of heavy contemplation on the older girl's face. Claire had no idea what to make of any of this but she was pretty sure she'd be having a serous chat with Dean. There was no way he didn't have some idea of what was going on here and she was going to tear into him when he got back. Not wanting Em to be traumatised anymore, she picked up the dozing child and carried her back to her bed. She sat on the side, gently rubbing Emma's back as she settled her under the covers. Claire picked up the book, trying to concentrate on the words in Supernatural number 21 "Fresh Blood." Maybe she'd find some answers there.

* * *

Coming out of her reverie, Claire felt very conflicted. She didn't want to break Emma's confidence but these nightmares and their effect on the girl were unsettling enough that Claire felt Dean had to be told about them. She just needed to find the right time to….

Sam entered the room, eyes widening, just as she opened her mouth to suggest that she and Dean should talk now. One look at Sam's face made it pretty obvious that he knew damn well what was going on. Claire rolled her eyes; _of course_ he did!

Emma looked at Sam curiously at first, then held up her arms. He walked over to her and picked her up, hugging her to him. He whispered something quietly in her ear, and she giggled that melodic laugh that warmed Dean's heart every time he heard it.

"Hey Sammy," Dean said, watching his brother tickle his daughter, Emma shrieking in delight, "Watch the kid for a second."

Sammy waved him away and Claire and Dean made their way out to the Map room.

"Okay, here it is. You're right. I should have told you about Emma earlier but to be honest, I wasn't sure if her…aging thing was going to be an issue or not." Dean looked uncomfortable for a moment then he started again. "Emma was the result of a, uh, one night stand with a woman named Lydia who wasn't quite…..human. So there might be a few special….."

"Um, hang on there Casanova, I think I figured all that out on my own. What kind of _not human_ are we talking about?" Claire had known he would try to gloss over the details but she had no intention of letting him get away with that.

Dean looked contemplative for a moment and Claire could practically see him weighing up the pros and cons of telling her the truth. She fought the urge to roll her eyes again, knowing it would just piss him off. After a while, he said, "Her mother, Lydia…..she was an Amazon. That means Emma's likely gonna keep aging quickly and she'll get really strong. Hopefully, that's all we have to worry about….."

Hopefully? Claire wasn't sure who he was trying to convince more with that statement, her or himself, but she let it go, planning on doing her own research later. "Uh huh," she replied without much conviction, "So does this mean I get hazard pay when she decides to throw a tantrum and go all Wonder Woman on me?"

"I expect my daughter to be the most perfect, sweetest little girl on the planet," Dean sounded genuinely offended, "She won't need any time-outs in the naughty corner or nights without dessert… You're not gonna be needing any _hazard pay_."

Claire _just_ managed not to laugh in his face. He'd obviously never met himself. Petulant pouting was a Dean Winchester trademark. This crazy situation, watching Dean navigate fatherhood on an accelerated time-line, might actually serve to be quite amusing or a complete disaster; only time would tell.

"How about this. Since you're not going to be offering health insurance, _you_ can pay me back with a few more training sessions while Sam can teach me more about studying lore and the research side of things…."

"Hey, I can teach you that stuff too, you know," Dean protested but without much heat. In truth, he was becoming more and more impressed with Claire's attitude about hunting, a fact that annoyed him no end. He recognized his own stubbornness in her and he knew trying to dissuade her from pursuing this life was going to be a long, ugly battle; one he was determined to win.

"Chill, Dean! I was gonna say that later we can switch it up. I want to learn as much as I can from both you geezers, okay?" Claire smiled brightly at the glaring man. She _so_ enjoyed their banter and knew that he did too.

"Yeah, okay brat," Dean said, "as long as you realize that your most important job around here is to follow orders. You don't go out on hunts with us until I think you're ready….."

"What? I don't get a say in that?" Sam entered the room, a dozing Emma in his arms.

"Sure you do," Dean replied, his eyes brightening at the sight of his daughter, "But I run this ship, kids, so what I say, goes."

Sam pursed his lips; he wasn't going to argue about this with a sleeping Emma and Claire in the room. He'd reserve the right to tell his brother off later.

Claire looked slightly amused by Sam's bitch-face, letting her protestations about Dean's over-protectiveness die at the end of her tongue. Dean could think what he liked. She'd do as she was told for as long as it worked for her and after that, well, she'd see.

The hunters took turns filling her in on the case in Bennett County. Sam took the opportunity to test Claire a little, questioning her about alternative strategies _she_ might have used and evaluating her opinions on its trickier aspects. He smiled in grim satisfaction when she gave Dean an exasperated look having just heard about how he'd run off by himself to the Billdon mansion.

"Geez, Dean," she said, shaking her head at him, "Anyone who's ever watched any episode of any t.v. show knows better than….."

"Yeah, all right," Dean waved his hand dismissively, "We've got more _important_ things to talk about like the British assh…people," Dean paused, looked over at Emma apprehensively and then back at Claire. With two pairs of younger ears around, he was going to have to be doubly careful to edit himself from now on, "…that broke in and kidnapped my very experienced, oversized, 'shoulda known better,' little brother right outta his own Bunker….."

Claire chuckled when Sam flipped Dean off. Clearly feeling very pleased with that reaction, but jerking his head towards Emma and shaking his head in silent rebuke, Dean proceeded to fill Claire in on the threat that was the British Men of Letters. She was quiet for a moment as she absorbed the information.

"So what are we going to do about it?" she asked finally, looking between the two men, "We can't just let them get away with breaking in here. What's to stop them from getting in again? We need to start searching through all of the books in the Bunker- maybe research ways of changing the security system. You know, when I was in the Panic room earlier, I realised that there's more than one way to program….."

"I showed you that room so that you and Emma would be safe, not so you could go in there and play around," Dean growled darkly, "What the hell were you doing…."

"Nothing!" Claire replied hastily, trying to feign as much innocence as possible, "I…uh, just got trapped in there for a few minutes but it was fine after. I worked it out pretty quickly….."

"And where was Emma during all of this?" Sam asked quietly, noting the way Emma was becoming more unsettled the angrier Dean got. He made a mental note to explore this later as he gave Dean an "I told you so look." He'd known that Claire's curiosity was going to get her in trouble when she was left alone with only a baby for company. She was trying to absorb everything she could about this world so there was no way that she hadn't been skulking around the Bunker every chance she could, even though they'd told her not to.

Claire paused, knowing that lying to Sam was physically impossible for her. His earnest, concerned, puppy eyes always broke her, as did his disappointment. Dean might have been like an annoying, older brother to her, but Sam reminded her of her father. Jimmy Novak had been a gentle, loving parent, who'd always allowed her to have a voice; her opinions important and valued. She'd never felt safer and more content than when her Dad treated her like she was the most special person in the universe. His saying yes to Castiel had been a betrayal of everything she'd cherished about their relationship and was the primary reason why her anger with the angel had always been deep and unrelenting. She knew that her resentment seemed cruel to the men standing in front of her, but every time she looked at her father's face and instead saw the angel peering back at her through his eyes, the pain in her heart swelled again and she was forced to relive the loss.

"Em…Em was fine. She was asleep in her crib…." The hard look Sam was giving her made her stumble over her words, "It couldn't have…..have been more than an hour….really! When I got back, she was…older!"

Dean had moved from annoyed to angry quickly, "An hour?! What did I tell you about wandering around in here? It's dangerous! You're supposed to be keeping yourself and Emma safe. What would have happened if you'd been in there any longer? Emma could have gotten sick or choked to death on something or wandered into some room with a dark artifact and…! You need to stop _playing_ at being a hunter and start acting like you understand what's at stake here!"

"I'm sorry, Dean!"

"Yeah, I know you are but that doesn't mean much if you don't start _listening._ Do you understand me?"

In a moment of false bravado and extreme embarrassment, Claire couldn't seem to help herself when she said, "You know, I'm not some little kid! I didn't go in there looking for adventure, I wanted to understand how the place worked in case I needed to use it! And I don't need you telling me what to do every 5 minutes and treating me like I'm some baby, either! I don't need a Dad or a big brother, I need partners…"

"I don't know when you're going to get this, Claire, but you're doing this our way or you aren't doing it at all. You toe the lines we set or you're gonna find yourself back in South Dakota, going to school or finding a regular job…" Sam's voice was quiet, controlled and intimidating.

"You can't force.."

"We can and _you_ will," Dean interrupted, pointing a finger at Claire's incredulous face, "You may think you don't need a minder, but tough shit, kid, you've got three and that _includes_ Cass! My advice? Start getting your head around this situation and fast…" Dean paused for a few moments, taking in Claire's crestfallen demeanour and giving the words a minute or two to hopefully, _finally_ \- reach her. "…Besides, practicing on you is gonna help prepare me for Emma's smart-ass teen years." Dean smirked slightly, knowing that the quip would help soften the blow just a little. He knew Claire well enough to know that injecting a little humour into their interactions, no matter how tense, usually took the edge off just enough that she would actually _hear_ him and not just react. He was right. Claire closed her mouth, her furrowed brow a clear sign that she was processing all that'd been said. Dean had faith that she'd do the right thing. After all, she'd been smart enough to come to them for help rather than go off on her own. She had to have at least suspected that she'd face even more restrictions _here_ than she did at Jody's and yet, she'd done it anyway.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Claire's eyes were glistening and her voice was slightly hoarse. Dean swore to himself as he glanced over at Sam, who'd pursed his lips in annoyance. Okay, maybe he'd succeeded a little _too_ well. Dean moved over to her and grabbed her into his arms, hugging her tightly. It was a measure of how upset she was that she clung to him fiercely without protesting.

"We're all adjusting," he said to her quietly, "and we'll figure it out, okay? You're family and we're glad you're with us."

"Thanks, old man." He could hear the smile in her voice and he waited a few moments more before letting her go. Sam was right there then, pulling Claire into his left side as he held the now waking Emma on his right, kissing the top of both their heads. He whispered something to Claire that had her nodding and smiling broadly and replying quietly in return. Dean didn't know what had been spoken, but he hoped that things were going to be better going forward.

Emma, completely awake now, reached immediately for Dean, almost squirming her way out of Sam's arms in her quest to get to her father. Dean caught her easily and spun her around, making her giggle madly as she wrapped herself around him like a limpet, burying her face in his neck as he cooed at her softly. Both Claire and Sam looked at each other with matching smiles, thoughts about family coming instantly to the forefront of each of their minds.

For Sam, his brother's interactions with both Emma and Claire over the past few days had only reinforced what he already knew. Once you were part of the inner circle, Dean had a hardwired sense of duty towards you; it was absolute. He'd step willingly in front of a bullet, or a bus or a charging monster for his loved ones. He'd protect them from all comers, even from themselves if he had to.

Claire was feeling shame and guilt for disappointing the brothers. She'd be ever grateful for the way they'd essentially adopted her into the fold, especially after all the mistakes she'd made in the past….Randy, that waste of space Ronnie and trying to have Dean killed, being the worst. She was filled suddenly with an overwhelming need to earn their approval again and a plan of action began to form in her mind. That final conversation between Dean and Mary kept replaying in her mind. Resurrected after thirty-three years- Claire couldn't even imagine it- but anyone could see that Emma was one of the best things that had ever happened to Dean. The young woman had been around the two hunters enough to know that theirs was a lonely existence. Dean had told her long ago that there was no future in this life; hunters never survived into old age, he'd said. Emma was Dean's chance at that _something more_ ; he _needed_ her. A fleeting thought of Jody passed through her mind but she quickly dismissed it. Her own situation was completely different. Claire had never been afraid of a little hard work, and in this case, an offensive approach was warranted. Mary's history might mean that she understood all about loss, but Claire was determined to help her learn about not wasting second chances.

"Look Dean," Sam said, causing Claire to focus on him once again, "I called Mom….."

"Stop right there," Dean held up his hand, his brother's next words dying on his lips, "Claire, can you take Emma back to your room? I think she needs a bit more of a nap before lunch."

"No," Emma immediately began to wiggle around trying to stop the inevitable, "I wanna stay with you, Daddy!"

"Come on, Em," Claire reached out for her, taking her as Dean kissed the child's forehead, "I'll tell you stories about when I was a little girl just like you, okay? And if you go straight to sleep afterwards, I'll read you more from our special books after dinner tonight."

Emma nodded eagerly just as Claire knew she would. The youngest Winchester enjoyed hearing about her father and Uncle Sam's adventures almost as much as she liked chocolate, a delicacy Claire had already used to bribe the girl earlier the day before via pancakes. Dean smiled grimly at Claire and she took Emma away, straining to eavesdrop. Even though she couldn't make out anything, it was obvious from Dean's tone that any talk of Mary was currently unwelcome. She wasn't deterred, though. Dean insisted that he knew what was best for her. In this circumstance, she was going to return the favour. As she headed off to her room, listening to Emma humming, Claire suddenly remembered that she'd wanted to warn Dean about his daughter's dreams. Feeling Emma playing with her hair as she settled her little head on Claire's shoulder, the older girl relented. Maybe she's just focus on one problem at a time. Right now, she had to muster up enough appetite to eat crow. When she settled Emma onto her bed, she pulled out her phone and called Alex.

* * *

"I don't care, Sam," Dean was frustrated by his brother's continuing need to meddle. Last night he'd been devastated, today Sam was his usual overreaching self, trying to heal the rift with their mother before the hurt feelings and insults had even a chance to lose some of their sting. Dean _really_ hated that about him. "She made her position pretty clear last night so there's nothing left to say. Now, are _you_ going out on the supply run or am I?"

Dean had his back up and if his clenched jaw and flashing eyes were anything to go by, Sam knew that his brother was now spoiling for a fight. Not really in the mood to be a substitute punching bag, Sam took the hint and backed off…for now. Holding his hands up in surrender, he grabbed the Impala's keys from the table, ignoring Dean as he shouted after him to try not to drive like a dumbass in his Baby.

The trip to the Costco in Lenexa took about thirty minutes. The first couple of times that Sam had been foolish enough to let Dean do this on his own, they'd become the proud owners of a two month supply of Cheetos, Fruit Loops and family packs of M & Ms. Apparently though Dean was a particularly discerning connoisseur of craft beers and certain questionable adult magazines, he couldn't be trusted to buy regular food unsupervised in a bulk retail warehouse. Truthfully, Sam was glad for some 'alone' time away from the Bunker, anyway. It'd been a rough few days to say the least and he needed the quiet to try to make sense of everything.

They had a mother again after more than thirty years- a woman who had previously, at least for Sam, existed only in other people's memories, as images in old photos and from his own impressions gleaned after meeting her younger self in 1978. He understood her feelings of alienation and the need for space, of course. He, himself, had taken off to California when his lifelong personality clash with John Winchester had finally come to a head, after all. And he even got her doubts about Emma since they'd been his own too until a few days ago. But all those memories, pictures and feelings meant that he'd essentially canonised Mary in his mind for years. Having her walk away _this_ time…. somehow, it just seemed worse. Winchester stubbornness ran long, wide, deep and painfully and even though there was no telling how long any future reconciliation was going to take, Sam had no intentions of waiting. He was going to figure out some way to bring them all back together, dragging Dean along kicking and screaming if he had to.

He cast those thoughts aside for now, focusing on the other problems they were currently facing. He and his brother were essentially raising _two_ kids right now- not like he'd ever say that out loud around Claire. She'd grown up quite a bit since they'd reconnected with her two years ago, but Claire was still too young, too headstrong and too impulsive and he had no intention of letting her out of his sight while she insisted on becoming a hunter. And the unhealthy anger she held for Castiel? Sam knew that if they didn't nip it in the bud soon, it was going to become a huge problem down the line. Sam shook his head as he thought about the angel. Cass had fled to parts unknown after Claire's outburst, refusing to answer Dean's phone calls when he'd tried to check up on him. Historically, Castiel going M.I.A. was never a good thing. Then there was Emma, who'd aged overnight, a worryingly familiar pattern. When he'd heard her little voice coming from Claire's room earlier, his heart had sunk. He and Dean had chosen to put their faith in both Chuck and in nurture versus nature. They had to believe that everything would work out this time because frankly, Sam didn't want to think about what Dean would do otherwise. Finally, of course, the new threat- the British Men of Letters- both the Bevell and Mick divisions. Given Sam's initial encounter with said organization, he was more inclined to think that Toni's brand of hospitality reflected its actual modus operandi. He gave no credence at all to that schlock that Davies had been slinging. He was going to be dedicating every minute he could to researching these assholes and uncovering their ultimate agenda.

Sam parked Baby in a secluded corner of the lot. He didn't want to have to listen to Dean bitching and/or moaning if someone dinged the car. Showing the greeter a membership card with the fake name, Kirk Hammett on it, he proceeded to move quickly and methodically through the place, though he did take more time choosing some educational toys and clothes for Emma. The outfits he bought would likely suffice up 'til she hit around age ten. After that, he figured she'd probably want to pick out her own stuff. He'd leave the teenaged years to Dean.

Sam was making his way out of the store, rather pleased that he'd managed to be in and out in under thirty minutes when he spotted her near the exit. He literally forgot to breathe for a moment as he was compelled forward towards her, his body moving despite his brain screaming at him to turn around and make a beeline for the Impala. Out of the blue, with no warning…Amelia…just making her way out of a Costco warehouse in Kansas, right there in front of him. His heart caught in his throat as he rushed to catch up with her, managing to tap her on the shoulder just as she was putting her key in the lock of her trunk.

"Amelia," he breathed, his voice reflecting his amazement as she turned around and stared up at him, first with a look of surprise then with a glowing warmth that eased some of the ache from deep within him.

"Oh my God!' she exclaimed, propelling her body into his and hugging him to her tightly, "Sam! I…..I don't believe it! How are you here? It's been so long…!"

"Amelia," he said again, his nose pressed firmly into her hair, the familiar scent of gardenias washing over him and flooding him with memories from one of the few times in his life that he'd been truly happy, "Amelia."

They stood there for a few moments in silence, each allowing the other time to revel in that past. When she started to pull away, it took all of Sam's willpower to let her go. She smiled up at him, placing her hand on his cheek as he grinned down at her in return.

"How've you been, Sam? It's been, what, four years?"

"Yes, four," he replied, already missing her touch when she pulled her hand away, "How have _you_ been? Did you move here from Kermit wi..with Don?"

"I've been well," she responded quietly, "Really well. I..we haven't moved. I'm just up here visiting with a friend. She roped me into to going shopping today…..I'm glad she did."

Sam stared at her, only half listening. She looked amazing. Her hair had grown longer, with flattering golden, sun-kissed streaks running through it and she had a few new laugh lines around her eyes too, which he found himself longing to trace with his fingers. He came back to himself to find her grinning at him, realizing that she'd asked him a question while he'd been daydreaming. "Sorry?"

Amelia laughed softly, "I asked if you wanted to go get a cup of coffee, maybe catch up…..unless you have to get home?" She looked pointedly at the toys and other baby accoutrement prominently displayed in his cart.

"I'm not married," he said, answering the unasked question, "They're for my niece…. and I'd love to."

They took separate cars to a Starbucks a few miles away. While waiting for lattés, they relayed stories from the past four years. Stan, Amelia's father, had been diagnosed with advanced pancreatic cancer about 2 years earlier and had died within 3 months. The disease had apparently hit hard and fast, and Stan's final weeks had been filled with near uncontrollable, unrelenting pain. Sam could the sadness still reflected deep within her eyes as she recounted her loss. He picked her hand up off the table and squeezed it tightly when tears began falling down her cheeks. The demands of her father's illness had put considerable stress on her already strained marriage to Don. Though the two were still together in name, they hadn't lived in the same place for over 18 months.

"He took a post at Fort Hood as soon as the dirt was on the coffin," Amelia laughed bitterly, "No discussion at all, just like when he signed up for the Army in the first place…."

"I'm sorry." Even while saying it, Sam was surprised at the degree of sincerity in his voice. "Amelia, I know….I mean, how we left things…..how _I_ left things…."

"It's in the past, Sam," she waved away the rest of his apology, "We both did what we thought was best at the time. I made my peace with everything a long time ago….I had to."

They stared at each other for a moment, Sam still feeling an intense need to explain himself. He'd just opened his mouth when she said, "So your brother, Dean, right?"

"Uh…yeah, Dean," Sam replied, caught off guard at the change of subject.

"He..he has a child now?" Amelia's voice was shaky, as she willed for him to let it go with her eyes. Sam gave in. In truth, he had no right to bring up the way they'd ended… the way _he'd_ ended their relationship. It had taken years for the pain and guilt over standing her up that day to fade into the background. The uncertain, vulnerable look in her eyes right now was like a knife to his heart. He'd talk about Dean, or the moon or teddy bears, if only it would take that look away.

"Yeah," he replied cheerily, trying to lift the mood, "she's the light of our lives really."

"Wow!" Amelia was genuinely surprised, "From what you always said, I didn't think Dean was the type to want kids."

"More like he thought it could never happen to him," Sam chuckled, "but he's a natural. He's amazing with her and she just loves her Daddy."

"That's wonderful! I'm happy for him….for both of you," Amelia's eyes were brighter now, and Sam was grateful for the change, "Do you have a picture, Uncle Sam?"

"Sure do," Sam replied with a laugh, whipping out his phone, "Here. She was six months old in this one…" Sam showed her a picture of baby Emma sleeping in her crib, flipping through a few others that showed her playing on Dean's bed and one with the three of them- Emma flanked by the two Winchester men as she grinned, her two bottom teeth just visible.

"Oh my God," Amelia exclaimed, beaming with amusement, "She looks just like him! What's her name?"

"Emma," Sam's voice was full of pride as he continued swiping through the gallery. A picture he'd taken of Em just that morning flashed onto the screen and he quickly shut off the phone.

"Was that Emma too?" Amelia looked confused as she watched Sam tuck the phone back into his pocket.

"Uh, yeah," he kept his tone light but he could tell she'd seen it. The timestamps on the photos clearly showed only a few days between shots. He braced himself for the inevitable and she didn't disappoint.

"Sam," she started, "Emma was at least two in that last picture but in those other photos you showed me, she was six months old…..I don't understand. Those were only a few days ago….."

"Yeah, I know," Sam tried to sound casual, "I've been having trouble with the timestamp settings in this stupid app ever since I got the phone. She's two now and getting into any and everything. She's a real handful."

Amelia seemed to accept the lie and Sam sighed inwardly with relief. They continued making pleasant conversation while they had their coffees, more than an hour passing. When Amelia announced that she was supposed to meet her friend for lunch in forty-five minutes and had to leave, they exchanged phone numbers and made tentative plans to meet up for dinner later in the week. Amelia seemed somewhat cautious at first, which Sam could understand, given the circumstances. He was pretty sure no good would come out of prolonging this. She was still married, lived 800 miles away and was an added complication he didn't really need right now. He left her with a kiss on the cheek and a lingering arm around her waist as he hugged her goodbye. As he walked back to the Impala, he glanced behind him needing to get one more look at her. As he'd hoped, she'd done the same, their eyes meeting instantly, the longing in his heart magnifying a hundred-fold. Yeah, this was a _really_ bad idea.

With all the willpower he could muster, he got into the car and drove away.

* * *

"Thanks for coming, Cass. I know you've been, uh…..busy, but I really want to get this done as soon as possible. If there's anything you can do to keep those British s.o.b.s outta this place, I'd really appreciate it." Dean's voice took on a softer tone, then, "I just need a bit of peace of mind when Emma and Claire are here alone and we're on the road…."

"Claire is still here?" Castiel interrupted, his brows furrowed as he looked at Dean, who simply nodded back at him, "I thought she was going to return to Sheriff Mills days ago?"

"Change of plans," Dean said, leading the way back to the living quarters, "Claire's been having some issues with Alex….again. She made a proposal to Sam and me and now she's staying on to take care of Em in exchange for us teaching her how not to get herself killed…"

"What do you mean?" the angel asked, gruffly.

"She was planning on leaving Jody's and going off to hunt alone. This way we can keep an eye on her."

"She's too young to be doing the work of hunters, Dean. Claire….she can't be allowed to pursue this; it's suicide!" Castiel had stopped moving, causing the other man to turn around.

"You're preaching to the choir, man," Dean agreed, "but she's an adult and trust me, she's not gonna change her mind. Don't worry, we won't let anything happen to her."

Castiel nodded slightly, not particularly reassured. They made their way back to Claire's room where Dean knocked on the door. After hearing a soft, "Come in", he walked in to find Claire humming while cradling a dozing Emma on her lap. Dean smiled at the sight and moved aside so that Castiel could enter. Claire's look of surprise quickly morphed into one of embarrassment when she saw him; she'd been absolutely foul to the angel when he'd been here last and the guilt had been weighing heavily on her mind ever since..

"Dean…."Cass' face hardened as he stared at the child.

"Emma has..," Dean began quietly, knowing what the angel was about to ask, "….she's, uh, grown since you last saw her…."

"What exactly is she, Dean?" Cass' concept of subtlety was as confronting as ever, "It was difficult to read her before…."

"She's half-Amazon," Dean replied, deciding not to beat around the bush, "She grows fast and strong…"

"Amazon….Doesn't she also have to kill….?"

"Okay, Uncle Cass, that's enough visiting for one day. Claire, why don't you put her down and come outside with us. Cass is here to help me ward the place." Dean really didn't want to talk about any potential DNA-driven patricidal tendencies his daughter might develop. Not in front of Claire and definitely not in front of Em. There was no need to tempt fate by jogging any of the memories from her previous life. Besides, saying the words out loud gave them power… or something like that. He was pretty sure he was misquoting but, whatever.

Claire carefully placed Emma in the center of a nest of pillows and followed the two men out to the library. Almost as soon as she cleared the room, she opened her mouth to apologize to Castiel but he was already back to talking about Emma.

"Dean, that child…there's something not right about her." Castiel looked unnerved as he led the way through the Map Room.

"Yeah, I know all about the flesh-eating and the killing, Cass. We can talk about that later…"

"No, now! This is serious, Dean! It's not just her unholy blood. It's…."

"Hey!"

"….there under the surface….that creature is an abomination, Dean! You have to….."

"Hey!" Claire shouted louder, finally getting their attention, her face red with anger, "How about _you_ be the last _creature_ on this planet to cast the first stone, _fallen angel_! She's just a baby and her father is standing _right here_ in front of you! How can you just…..!"

" _You_ do notdictate to _me_ , Claire!" Castiel's tone was deadly, taking both she and Dean by surprise.

The girl in question reared back, even as the angel pulled her to stand right in front of him, holding fast to her shoulders. Staring directly into her frightened eyes did nothing to temper his anger though as he spoke in an intense yet quiet voice, " _You_ are a human child. Your presence on this earth represents a mere zeptosecond of the time I've existed. Do _not_ presume to tell me what I know about _anything_."

Castiel paused to lean forward a little further, the increased intimidation unnecessary in Dean's opinion, "I may not be Jimmy Novak but we shared a vessel for many years and I knew his soul. You are so much better than the immature, bitter, callous little brat that you've become. Your parents….they would be so deeply ashamed of you….."

Dean was temporarily stunned. Was he thrilled by what Cass had said about Emma? No. In fact, it had pissed him right off. A confrontation between the angel and his sort-of daughter had been brewing for a while and Dean was beyond amazed that Castiel had finally called the girl out, but _this_? _This_ was next level and it was time to put a stop to it. Seeing the devastation in Claire's eyes, Dean called Castiel's name, telling him to let her go. He'd said what he needed to and it was done now. Cass would never really hurt her, of course, but she clearly needed space. Dean really hoped they never had to go through this again.

Claire looked between the two, her mouth gaped open in shock. As soon as Castiel let her go, she turned without another word and fled, leaving both men to stare after her. Dean waited a few moments before addressing his friend.

"A bit _harsh, Cass?_ " he admonished, incredulously.

"But not any less deserved," was the angel's quick reply, "that all needed to be said."

"And I mostly agree with you…."

"Good. Then let's get back to why you called me here…."

"Yeah, hang on. That tone and attitude of hers are _always_ uncalled for, but I don't object to the sentiment. Emma _is_ my kid, Cass…," Dean paused, searching for the right words, "Look, there's some stuff I haven't told you about. Me and Sam, we met Emma the first time 5 years ago. It didn't go so well. Sam had…had to take her out because she was gonna kill me. We've been given a second chance with her and we're going to do everything in our power to make sure that history doesn't repeat itself…" Dean stopped talking when he saw the cynical look on Castiel's face.

" _How_?" the angel asked, clearly unmoved, " _How_ did you get this second chance?"

"Chu….God brought her back to me from Purgatory. He said he changed her. Sam and I feel, well, we hope that means with a little less murder in mind….."

"My Father _gave_ her to you?" Castiel's voice was gruff, and somewhat angry, "and this was before he went off with Amara?"

"Does it matter, Cass? The point is Emma's growing up without any Amazon influence, pagan rituals or misandry…..What? I looked it up!" Dean asked in exasperation, wanting Castiel to focus on the positive spin he was trying to put on the situation rather than his vocabulary, "She's part of a family now, _our_ _family_ and that includes you and Claire. We can do this together….."

"And Mary?" Castiel's tone was accusatory, "Is she a part of this too? Your mother left me a mail-voice. She said she left the Bunker because of your bull-headed stubbornness. She didn't go into details but now I understand….."

"You're right, Cass," Dean's stare was suddenly cold, "let's get back to why I called you here. How about you head down to 7B and take a look at the warding around the dungeon and I'll check go check on our daughters."

Castiel nodded and immediately turned towards the stairs leaving Dean to glare after him. After a moment, the hunter shook his head and headed off to find Claire.

* * *

"I know you're uneasy about our fragile alliance, Mr. Ketch, but Jeremy assured me that we'd reached an understanding, given how our philosophies align perfectly under the circumstances. Please tell me that your overly suspicious attitude doesn't have anything to do with your reluctance to take orders from a woman?"

Arthur Ketch gritted his teeth and for the third time during this tiresome phone call, wondering whether he'd gone crazy for having agreed to work with the smug, self-satisfied, aristocratic bitch that was Lady Toni Bevell.

"It's less to do with your being a woman," he replied trying to keep his tone even, "and more about your embarrassing track record of failure…"

"…and yet you agreed," Toni replied, icily, "and as I recall, it didn't take much to convince you."

"Well, your impressive bank roll helped," he quipped, then cleared his throat, "But enough with the pleasantries. Can't we just agree that the Organization has lost its focus and the best way to go about ending the ineptitude of American hunters is to start with their worst, the Brothers Winchester?"

"Of course," she answered, agreeably, causing Jeremy to roll his eyes at her insincerity, "Now, what have you to report? What is your assessment of her?"

Ketch ignored the baiting and got down to business. "It's as you suspected. Clearly, the woman's from much better stock than her offspring. Your plan, in this instance, was rather well thought out. Leaving those breadcrumbs for Mary to follow to the Petersons in Mason City was a good test…"

"Yes, I know Ketch!" Toni snapped, annoyed, "it was _my_ plan as you've said. Now, tell me!"

Ketch smirked at her loss of control, but let it go. "Predictably, she wiped out the girl's abusive parents immediately but Gail gave Mary pause, given she has the same powers dear Sam had when he was strung out on demon blood…"

"And?"

"And after a small stumble, she proved herself to be just as ruthless as you thought she'd be…"

" _Meaning_ , Ketch? Just spit it out!" Toni had known that agreeing to work with this deranged monster was going to be a challenge, but this was ridiculous.

"Meaning that I thought she was weak….at first. She let the girl live. Told her to run and start a new life, but then Mary had a change of heart. Tracked her down and killed her in a bus station bathroom."

Toni smiled in satisfaction. "Wonderful. I knew I saw that cold-blooded look in her eyes. This is just perfect for what we want to accomplish. Good work, Ketch. Keep following Mummy Winchester and reporting back to me. I'll have another case for you to feed to her soon…Uh, something's just come up. Let me call you back….."

Ketch swore at the phone and tossed it onto the table beside him. At the first sign of a cock-up in these _plans_ , he was going to track down 'Miss High and Mighty' Bevell and snap her neck. In the meantime…..

He peered surreptitiously through the blinds across the courtyard into Mary Winchester's motel room. The Winchester matriarch had just grabbed a backpack and headed out her door. Seemed like his job was never done.

* * *

"Took you long enough to get here!" Jeremy muttered as the woman walked into the foyer, "She was expecting you hours ago!"

"I appreciate your sending the private jet, but you told me to make sure he didn't follow me to the airport so I had to drive around a bit to make sure. It's only been a few hours so calm down, _butler_."

Jeremy glared at the brunette, who walked past him to the study door.

"…let me call you back." Toni hung up on the maniac and turned to the woman entering the room, "Where the Devil have you been?"

The young woman pursed her lips, "I was being careful like you told me, Ma'am. I was afraid that he'd see right through me but you were right. He was like putty in my hands from the first."

Toni smiled smugly, "The Winchesters are nowhere near as difficult to manipulate as the Council believes. If they'd given me more time, we wouldn't have needed to go down this convoluted route…"

"…but we wouldn't have had as much fun." Jeremy strolled in, moving to stand beside Toni.

"True," Toni agreed, pausing to scrutinize the woman, "Did he like the highlights?"

"He liked the whole package," she perched herself on the side of the desk and tossed said hair behind her, "Sam Winchester was completely smitten by every little strand. I know some may consider him rather handsome, but I wanted to break his arms when he hugged me. Ugh! What a pathetic loser!"

"You have to admit, _Amelia_ , that your gift is truly amazing. If I didn't know you were a shape-shifter, I would have thought you were the dearly departed Mrs. Richardson also. So tell me, what did you learn?"

"You can tell your spies in Lebanon that they're doing a pretty piss-poor job watching the Winchesters," _Amelia_ said derisively, her eyes bright, "How they could have missed Dean Winchester's toddler, I'll never understand."

"What?" Toni screeched, grabbing the shifter's arm, "What did you just say?"

"I know," the woman replied, shrugging, "According to Sam, Dean has a baby daughter named Emma living in that Bunker."

"Jeremy, get the morons who are staking out that power plant on the phone. Is it Stokely who's in charge down there? Tell him I'll have his head on a pike if he doesn't get me a full report on Emma Winchester in the next twenty-four hours. Rachel, do you know anything else about her?"

The shifter shook her head then paused, her face thoughtful.

"What? What is it?"

"Sam…he acted strange about something. The girl's age. He showed me a few pictures of her, taken only days apart. In the first few, she was just a baby but in the last, taken only today, she was at least two years old…."

Jeremy, Toni and Rachel all looked at each other in silence for a moment, contemplating this information.

"Could she be a shifter?" Jeremy asked Rachel who immediately shook her head.

"No," she answered, "I'd know."

"Dean must have had a bit of adult fun with one of his prey. Have the research team come up with a list of possible monsters whose young age rapidly. I want that by tonight." Toni turned a radiant smile on Rachel, "You've always been one of the Organization's most valuable assets and one of my most loyal soldiers. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I know that look, Lady Bevell," Rachel sighed in resignation, "You want me to be Amelia again, don't you?"

"I know I told you that you could toss that burner in the ocean, but you may have to hold onto it a little longer. If the inept Mr. Stokely disappoints us again, we may need you to keep that date with that gigantic, lovesick puppy."

Rachel screwed up her face in distaste. "Fine, but if we ever have to storm that Bunker, I want to be in on the operation. I want first crack at him…and his arms."

"Done," Toni smiled, as she listened to Jeremy reprimanding Stokely over his cell, "Once this is over, his arms won't be the only bones we'll break."

Rachel nodded, returning the smile. She accepted Toni's offer of a glass of Scotch. Toni was always generous with the good stuff and Rachel/Amelia was ready to celebrate a job well done.

* * *

Having placed the last of the Enochian sigils on the walls of the dungeon, Castiel dialed the number. "I found it," he growled quietly, a tinge of guilt creeping into his voice as he looked at the dusty tome he held in his hand, "Tell Rowena that I'm on my way. I'm expecting you to hold up your end, Crowley. The book for the tablet. "

He shut off the phone and dropped it into the pocket of his trench coat. Working with those two went against every instinct in his body but he had precious few options. The King of Hell had insisted that their Lucifer search party remain a trio, given that the "overgrown plaid-wearing Boy Scouts" were likely to get in the way if they got involved. Normally, the angel would have ignored Crowley, but Dean had almost had to sacrifice himself to save the world and Sam had been tortured and nearly killed himself, all within a matter of days. There was no way he was risking them again, especially not in a street fight with the Morningstar. His mind turned to Claire as he made himself invisible, leaving the archive shelves outside the dungeon behind him as he headed up to find her. She was in the kitchen teaching Dean how to make some form of chicken dish while the child sat in the far corner playing with a stack of blank paper and a few markers. Castiel glared at Emma with hard eyes. In truth, he couldn't really say for certain what it was about her that chafed him so badly, though his Father's involvement might have contributed. _His_ 'working in mysterious ways' always turned out to be part of a larger, usually catastrophic agenda. Castiel could admit to himself that the whole situation was making him bitter. Crowley had been right. God had found the time to resurrect the little monster from Purgatory as a reward for Dean's service but hadn't set aside a few minutes- yet again- to take care of his maniacal son, Lucifer, before checking out- _YET AGAIN_!

Remembering that Crowley and Rowena were awaiting his return, the angel pulled out his phone and texted Dean to say that he'd finished adding his protections to the Bunker and had already left. Dean pulled his phone out of his back pocket and frowned when he read the message. He texted back, asking why Cass had run off without saying goodbye. Cass began to reply and then stopped. He didn't really know what to say. With one last look at Dean and Claire, he left.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 **A/N: I know it's been too long since I posted, but as usual, work commitments took away a lot of my time and I ended up writing a 23-page chapter that I had no time to edit. I've broken it up into two parts to make it easier to read. When I finish editing, the second part will be up asap. In the meantime, please read, review and enjoy!**

It had been four days since Castiel had taken off for parts unknown again and a rare calm had fallen over the Bunker. Emma had miraculously stayed the same age, walking and talking, well, like she'd done it before and Claire….Claire had become rather quiet and withdrawn. 'Dr. Sam' the know it all,' as Dean had insisted on calling him, had offered his immediate psychoanalysis of the situation, much to his brother's irritation. In his 'expert' opinion, Claire had been overwhelmed not only by the simultaneous disapproval of all her father-figures, but by the extreme changes in her life circumstances. Sam wasn't at all surprised, then, when she'd spent the first few days hiding in her room, only emerging for meals at Dean's insistence, and offering a litany of one word grunts to all the questions put forth to her. The only person who seemed to make a dent in her self-imposed seclusion was Emma. By the third night, Claire couldn't even seem to muster up the energy to look at Sam when he retrieved his niece from the older girl's room before dinner. Em had greeted him with a scowl on her face, scolding him as he helped her wash up about he and her Daddy making Claire cry. Sam had taken that as his cue to finally stage a one-man intervention. He ignored Claire's protestations that she wasn't hungry and her request to be alone, dragging her out to do a session on Dragon and Pishtaco lore, while they ate pizza. Dean hovered after dinner, sitting within sight of them in the library with Emma on his lap while he read Alice in Wonderland to her. The latter hadn't been his first choice or his twentieth, but when Sam had seen the stack of Batman comics that his brother had considered to be of 'critical historical significance', he'd been quick to jump in, handing Dean what he deemed an 'acceptable' reading list. He'd delivered it with the bitch-face to end all bitch-faces and Dean had given in for the sake of peace.

From the start, Claire had barely engaged in the process despite Sam's gentle persistence. Dean had become more and more frustrated as he watched his brother crash and burn over and over again. Then Emma, with a perfect imitation of Sam's puppy dog eyes, had looked up at him and whispered that _he_ had to be the one to cheer the older girl up. He was Batman, after all, and he could do anything. Dean couldn't lie- his heart had swelled not only at the look of absolute adoration and trust that had shone brightly in her eyes but of course, at her clearly DNA-driven understanding of superheroes. He'd kissed her forehead, set her down on the chair as he stood up and made his way over to the other two. Grabbing Claire's with a confident "Let's go!", he'd dragged the surprised girl straight down to the shooting range and placed a Walther P99QA in her hand.

She looked askance at both him and the gun, as he smirked unrepentantly at her.

"Trust me," he said simply, "You'll feel better."

"I don't see how…"

Dean gently turned her by the shoulders to face the distant paper targets. "Go on, show me what you can do," he said encouragingly, "If it helps, you can picture my face up there."

Claire stared back at him for a moment and turned around when he raised his eyebrows at her in question. She raised the gun half-heartedly and aimed for one of the shapeless figures in front of her. Dean let her shoot a few rounds before he corrected her stance, showing her how to lock her arms and plant herself more solidly. After a half hour, he could tell that she'd started to relax and by the time Sam came down to say he'd put Emma down for the night, Claire was smiling and joking with Dean like nothing had ever happened. The brothers shared a quick glance, both clearly relieved to see the change. They took turns coaching her through the use of a number of handguns until a few hours had passed and Sam suggested they pick it up again later. Claire wished them both a good night, pausing just before she left to give them quick kisses on the cheek. Sam smiled after her and then turned to Dean, who sported a similar look on his face.

"You know, if I didn't know that it would break my hand, I might have decked Castiel for what he said to her," Sam said, moving to start clearing the weapons away.

"Claire's single-minded when it comes to Cass, Sam" Dean responded with a shrug, "but yeah, he was definitely out of line too. It was pretty ugly, man. And then to just beam out of here without a word…. I don't know what's going on with him but it's starting to get old."

"You know how he is, Dean," Sam paused and then shook his head. "So what do you wanna do about it?"

"Nothing," Dean replied, stacking the shell boxes, "All the _crazy_ will come out eventually. Maybe some distance isn't such a bad thing right now, anyway."

Sam didn't believe him for a second. He knew _exactly_ what his brother was thinking by the pensive expression on his face. Cass only turned away when he was involved in something he deemed too dangerous for them, which also meant that it was too dangerous for _him_. The resulting fallout was usually exponentially worse and they always ended up involved anyways. What could they do though? Cass was an angel and when he wanted to disappear, he did just that. All they could hope for was that he would come to his senses sooner rather than later. In the meantime, Sam and Dean were just glad for a little respite. With all the chaos they'd been through over the last few weeks, just spending time with Emma and Claire was a welcomed change of pace.

As he and Dean were finishing up, Sam used the lull in conversation to cast his mind back to Amelia. This was a delicate situation. He didn't want to crowd her but he was champing at the bit to make contact, if only to hear her voice again. He hadn't told Dean about their chance encounter when he'd come back from Costco, convincing himself that there was enough going on at the Bunker with the Claire and Cass blowup without dropping that bombshell; it just wasn't the right time.

"Yeah," he thought, sarcastically, "Who was he trying to fool?" Sam knew that Amelia would be a major sore spot. Even though he'd been following Dean's wishes, deep down Sam was pretty sure that his brother still harboured some residual resentment over the time Sam had left hunting- abandoning Dean to Hell and Kevin to the tender mercies of Crowley. The aftermath of that decision had represented one of the darkest chapters in his relationship with his brother, one that in all honesty, he'd been surprised they'd come back from. Clearly, he had no intentions of revisiting that disaster again. He'd keep this situation to himself for now. Besides, there was no point bringing it up yet since there was every possibility that Amelia wouldn't agree to another meeting anyway. He tamped down the twinge of pain that that thought brought him and, saying goodnight to Dean, headed for his room. He had to focus. Dean thought that he'd found a case in Columbus, Ohio and wanted to leave at first light- only a few short hours away. Two people in an antique shop had seemingly spontaneously combusted and local law enforcement was baffled. Now that they knew that Claire was going to be okay, getting on the road was a priority. Sam changed into a t-shirt and sweats, got into bed and turned out the lights.

* * *

"Oh my God, Dean, we're gonna be fine! I swear, I never knew how much of a Nervous Nellie you could be! Em and I are just gonna spend the day reading and baking cookies, okay?"

Dean pursed his lips against the smirk on Claire's face as she watched him and Sam loading their gear into the Impala. With eight hundred miles to cover, they really needed to get moving but he just couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Claire was more or less back to her old self this morning and, given recent events, on her best behavior. He'd kissed and cuddled Emma for a bit while she slept, not wanting to wake her and risk seeing the sad little face she made whenever she realized that he was heading out again. He'd been avoiding it thus far, but he needed to have a serious conversation with Sam about what to do with Emma in the future, and soon. Dean was finally clear about one thing- there was no way in Hell that he was going to let his little girl become a hunter. Given what she was, and what he did, he wasn't entirely sure how he'd accomplish that but he'd send her off to Jody's or boarding school or Timbuktu before he'd let it happen. Nothing and no one from the fucked up supernatural world he and his brother had to trawl through, was gonna touch her- ever.

Dean looked over at Sam and they had one of those silent conversations they were so fond of. Claire _just_ managed not to sigh out loud. Right now, she just needed them happy, packed up and gone. She looked inconspicuously at her watch, stopping herself from fidgeting as she waited for the final word. Worst case scenario? If they thought she was still too fragile to be left behind to take care of herself and Emma, one of them might hang back to keep an eye on them. That would royally screw up her careful plotting. Sure, she'd been embarrassed and humiliated by Castiel's verbal castigation at the time, but she'd also gotten over it pretty quickly too. She wasn't completely oblivious to the fact that she'd brought it on herself. Clearly even angels had a breaking point and Castiel had reached his.

She'd spent that first evening sulking in her room for a bit, snapping out of the last of it by the time Emma had woken up from her nap. Claire wasn't proud of it but, after a few days of moping- actually a cover while she made arrangements- she'd bribed the little girl, promising her as much chocolate as she could eat, if she would play a secret game with her. Emma had been only too thrilled by the prospect and with surprisingly little coaching, had relayed Claire's apparent devastation to her uncle. It had gone off without a hitch. Sam had intervened, as she knew he would and then she'd sucked Dean into her 'rescue' as well. By the time Dean had taken her through five different firearms, she knew she'd convinced him that everything was back to normal. A little later, she heard the two men outside her room talking about a possible case, and Claire knew that now they'd be more inclined to head out on the job. She'd _finally_ get the opportunity to enact her plan, free and clear.

She looked at her watch again, openly this time, and found Sam and Dean staring at her when she looked up.

"Are we keeping you?" Dean deadpanned, as he headed over to driver's door.

"Yeah, actually. I gotta get Emma up for the day otherwise she won't want to take her nap later. So chop-chop boys, I got a schedule to keep."

Dean fake scowled at her while Sam grinned, clearly happy to see her spirit returning. He walked up to Claire, giving her one of his bear hugs while Dean warned her to be good. With one last wave, they got into Baby and then they were gone.

Claire breathed a huge sigh of relief and started out of the garage, pulling out her phone along the way.

"Alex?" she said, heading back to her room to check on Emma, "They're finally gone. Are you on the road yet? About an hour or so? Okay, I'll see you soon."

Claire opened the door, gasping immediately at the sight. It seemed that Emma's 'miracle' was gonna be rather short lived. The girl was staring at herself in the mirror, a look of wonder on her face. Emma appeared to be about six years old now and she'd grown at least a foot taller. Claire felt a rush of pity for Dean. Family was everything to that man and he was going to beat himself up about missing this. It just strengthened her resolve. She needed to go find Mary, get on her good side and figure out exactly what she needed to do to bring their mother back. If that wasn't possible, well, she'd give her a piece of her mind.

"Hey Emma," she said quietly, entering and closing the door behind her, "My Metallica t-shirt looks great on you but it's a good thing that your Uncle Sam planned ahead. You wanna look through the clothes he got you…?"

"Claire!" Em ran full tilt towards her, throwing her arms around her waist, the impact causing the older girl to take a step back to steady herself, "I…I don't understand what's goin' on?

"It's okay, hunny," Claire gave her a gentle squeeze, "Has your Dad talked to you about any of this? About why you're getting older so quickly?"

"He…he said I got it from my Mom….and then he told me he didn't wanna talk about her 'til I was older!" Emma pulled back to look up at her, "But Claire, in my dreams… I was just a baby and there was this woman….I think it was my Mom, Claire…and Daddy was there too! It felt so real…but that can't be right, can it? It's makin' me really scared!"

Claire cursed Dean in her head for the fortieth time that day and it was only seven a.m.. Of course _she'd_ be the one faced with telling Emma that she was destined to become a homicidal warriorette with an ingrained need to slice and dice her father.

"I..I don't know very much about it, Em," Claire's lie toppled badly off her tongue, "But we'll talk to your Dad together when he gets back, all right?"

"Daddy's gone?" Tears glistened in the youngest Winchester's eyes, her voice tremulous.

"Yeah," Claire gave her another hug, then gently led her to one of the spare rooms down the hall. Sam had put Emma's as-yet unused clothes in a bedroom across from Dean's. He'd started setting it up for when she got old enough to be on her own. With the way things were going, that was likely to be next week. "He and your uncle had a case, but they won't be gone long. In the meantime, you won our game, remember? You were so good and it's time for you to get your surprise."

Emma sniffed a little but her eyes had brightened with anticipation. "Surprise?"

"Yes, surprise!" Claire tickled Emma lightly, as she opened the closet door. Emma contorted wildly to get away from her, giggling hysterically even as she pulled out a navy-blue cotton dress, with tiny white and green flowers on the bodice.

"That's so pretty! Good choice, Em! So, you remember I told you that I was gonna invite a friend over?"

Emma nodded, hugging the dress to herself.

"Well, she's gonna spend the day with you while I go out and get that surprise…"

Emma narrowed her eyes suspiciously, the look so freakishly similar to Dean's that Claire felt a shiver down her back. "You don't have the surprise already? That wasn't the deal!"

Claire couldn't help it. She burst out laughing, the scowl on Emma's face making her double over; this was Dean's kid all right, and she was too cute for her own good.

"I'm sorry, Em, I'm not laughing at you. It's just that you look so much like your Dad right now."

Emma smiled proudly as Claire grinned at her with great amusement, "Okay, kid, you got me. No, I don't have anything to give you _right now_ but when my friend gets here, I can go out and do a little shopping for the best, most perfect reward, okay?"

"Okay," Emma nodded, sticking out her hand to shake Claire's, just as the older girl had taught her.

Claire felt her phone buzz in her pocket, as Emma turned to get dressed. Alex was five minutes out. She typed a quick acknowledgement, helped Emma with the buttons and then led them down to the garage. Alex was getting out of her car when they arrived, the look on her face both weary and apprehensive.

"Claire," she greeted flatly, her eyes diverting to Emma.

"Hi Alex!" Claire replied with false cheerfulness, "Thanks for coming. This is Emma."

"Hi," the little girl said shyly, as Alex walked up to them and crouched down in front of her.

"Hi Emma, I'm Alex. I know your Dad and your Uncle Sam. It's really nice to meet you."

"You know, Daddy?" Emma asked, looking back at Claire who began steering her upstairs. Alex followed.

"Sure do. He and Sam saved me from some, uh, mean people and now Claire, our friend Jody and I live together in South Dakota."

"Wow, Daddy and Uncle Sammy saved you? Just like Batman and Robin?"

"Yeah," Alex chuckled, "Exactly like Batman and Robin."

Emma's chest puffed out a little. "Daddy's Batman!" she announced confidently, then whispered, "but don't tell Uncle Sam that he's 'Robin' 'cause Daddy says he doesn't like being called a sideboard."

Both older girls laughed, the trio making their way to the kitchen.

"I think you meant sidekick, Em," Claire laughed, "Why don't you get some plates from the cupboard while I make us all some breakfast, okay?"

As Emma set to work, Claire pulled Alex aside. "Thanks for agreeing to do this."

"Actually, I have no idea how I let you talk me into this."

"Well, you're not doing it for me, you're doing it for Sam and Dean. Look, I'm not asking for much. You only have to watch Emma for a day or three, tops. I know where Mary is and I can get there by late afternoon today. Then I'm going to come straight back- mostly," Claire whispered, watching Emma pull out some blueberries from the fridge.

"What does that mean?" Alex hissed, irritated.

"The Winchesters are great guys but they're guys. Like I told you on the phone last night, somehow they've forgotten how long I've been cooped up in this giant bomb shelter. Emma's happy here, thank God, but that's 'cause she doesn't know any better. I need to breathe some fresh air, go out and …."

"Yeah, fine. What if they come home early?"

"They won't. I heard Dean tell Sam that the case they're working on is gonna take at least four days. I'll be back way before then so they won't even know you were here. Emma won't say anything either."

Alex was still looking skeptical so Claire continued, "Look, I know you're taking a huge risk lying to Jody about where you are when you're not really getting anything out of it. I'll owe you more than one favour, all right? Do this for me and…" Claire paused to consider. "I won't go back to South Dakota. Jody likes to think that we're one big happy family but deep down she knows that I've always been the third wheel. Besides, it's time for me to move on. I want to be a hunter and Jody's never gonna stop trying to convince me otherwise. Neither of us need the constant aggravation…."

"Claire…" Alex began, her brows furrowed in uncertainty.

"It's fine, Alex, really. Look, I need to get going. We've talked about my plan for a few days now and you know all the rules about Emma so we really shouldn't have anything to worry about. I'm gonna stay and have breakfast while Em gets accustomed to you then I'm out. Now, are you in or not?"

Alex glared at Claire briefly before nodding. The other girl returned a single nod of her own and then went to help Emma get the heavy orange juice container out of the fridge. Alex joined them a moment later, pulling out a few different boxes of cereal while Claire got started on some scrambled eggs. In a few minutes, they were all seated at the table, Emma interrogating Alex animatedly, gazing at her like she was a shiny new toy. Before long, Claire was hugging Emma goodbye and heading down to the garage. It was going to take her at least eight hours to get to central Nebraska and Mary. If she was successful, she'd be bringing Mama Winchester back with her. If not, then she'd take a little time for herself to see if she could find a little trouble- stretch her Hunter's legs, so to speak. She looked over at the gun she'd liberated from the range the night before. Yeah, a little trouble would be perfect right about now.

* * *

"Take the cardigan. It's gonna be a little chilly outside today."

"Did you say _outside_?" Emma squealed in delight, her mouth open in amazement.

"That's right, little Winchester!" Alex grinned, chuckling as the child began jumping up and down, excitedly. "You've been cooped up in here too long. I don't know what your Daddy and Sam were thinking, but you need some sunshine, hunny."

Emma nodded vigorously, grabbing the sweater from her closet and Alex's hand, dragging her all the way down to the garage.

Alex never really had any doubts about what she was about to do. Sure Claire had been pretty straightforward about Dean's rules for Emma- numbers one through ten were, 'She doesn't leave the Bunker'- but Claire's bare-bones account of Emma's sudden existence and her 'anti-Benjamin Button' condition had been pretty light on the explanations. She hadn't asked too many questions either, not that she wasn't curious, but Claire had kept their conversations to a minimum over the past few days, afraid of being overheard while Emma and the boys were in such close quarters. Alex had left it at that, assuming that she'd be filled in later but Claire had been in such a hurry to get out of there, that there really hadn't been time.

Well, if Claire was having such a desperate case of cabin fever, Alex couldn't imagine why the kid would be any different. A few hours had passed since she'd gotten to the Bunker and so far, she and Emma had been through a few board games they'd found in the library, had baked a double batch of chocolate chip cookies so Dean could have extra to sneak before dinner, and had played a terrifying round of hide and seek where she'd been unable to find Emma for almost forty-five minutes. In retrospect, that game had been a pretty stupid idea given that Alex had never been to the Bunker and that it was five times larger than she could ever have imagined. When noon came around, it was obvious that Emma was bored and Alex was at a loss. Watching her quietly playing in the corner of the Map room, brought up unbidden thoughts of her own childhood. Not that she'd ever compare being used as both bait and a vampire blood slave to Emma's situation, but she could relate to the loneliness and isolation. Having a day out was a spontaneous decision and seeing the joy on the girl's face erased any and all doubts. So, she'd led them back to the living quarters to grab sweaters, happening to find a booster seat at the back of Emma's closet. In mere minutes, Alex had gotten them buckled into her rental and out into the Kansas air. Time to hit the park.

* * *

"Hey, does this pocket watch mean anything to you, Nazi-relic wise?" Dean asked.

"No. Sorry," the man on speakerphone, Aaron Bass, replied.

It'd been years since Sam and Dean had had any contact with Aaron. Their _simple_ case of spontaneous combustion had brought them into contact with Nazi artifacts and naturally they'd turned to Aaron for help. He hadn't heard about any specific American-based initiatives among the Thule Society, a group of Nazi necromancers with a thirst for world domination that the brothers had first encountered nearly four years ago. However, Aaron _did_ suspect that something big was happening, given that, by all accounts, the Thule High Command was closing ranks all of a sudden.

Sam looked down at his laptop, an alert from his police scanner app coming in, "Hey, another body just dropped."

"Aaron, we're gonna have to call you back, bud." Dean disconnected the call and got to his feet, "Let's go."

Sam packed up his stuff and they headed to Baby. "It's at an apartment on Goldman Street."

"I'm gonna check in with Claire," Dean said, dialing her number as he pulled out of the diner parking lot. It went straight to voicemail. Dean waited a minute or two and tried again.

"What is it?" Sam asked, seeing the annoyed look on his brother's face.

Dean didn't answer. Instead, he redialed a third time and put the phone back to his ear. When it went to voicemail again, he muttered "Sonofabitch" under his breath and dialed again.

"Dean?"

"It keeps going to voicemail," he replied, an edge of concern in his voice. This time, she answered. "Claire? What the hell?"

"Hey Dean," Claire tried to make it seem like she had had to run to answer the phone, "Sorry, I left my phone in the library…"

"And where were you?" he demanded, glancing over at Sam who was looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"Doing laundry. Sorry, I hope you weren't worried or anything. Everything's okay here." Claire tried to make her voice even, though her heart was pounding. She'd tried not to make a habit out of lying to the Winchesters, and this one was huge. Now that she was in the thick of it, the guilt was immediate and overwhelming.

"How's Emma?"

"She's…..," Claire paused, glancing out of the car window as she considered telling him about Emma's recent ageing. She quickly discounted the idea because she really couldn't afford to have Dean rushing back to the Bunker when she was this close. Mary was _literally_ in an alley across the street having a heated conversation with some scuzzy-looking low-life outside a pawn shop in Broken Bow. She'd contacted Mary as soon as she'd gotten out on the road hours earlier. The woman had agreed to see her as soon as Claire had mentioned needing to talk to her about a number of 'disturbing' things including the 'unsettling changes' she'd been noticing in Emma, the danger the child represented and Claire's fear over what she called Sam and Dean's 'blind devotion' to the girl. She'd felt so dirty saying the words aloud but Claire needed Mary to trust her and it had worked like a charm.

From what she'd overheard at the Bunker, Claire knew that Mary had been a formidable hunter who'd grown up in the business. Not wanting to take any chances, she'd arrived in Broken Bow and had immediately tracked the older woman down, tailing her for a few hours in order to glean what kind of situation she was walking into. It didn't take a genius to realize why Mary had decided to come to this town. A number of the Supernatural books had described the close connection between the Winchesters and Harvelle's Roadhouse. If Claire had to hazard a guess, Mother Winchester was on a literal (road)trip down memory lane, chasing down the remaining bits of her past in an attempt to reconcile her existence in this new world. Claire could completely understand that need for 'connection' and had even managed to empathize with the woman for a moment when she'd stopped to consider things from Mary's point-of-view. But then she'd remembered Emma's innocent little face and infectious giggle and more importantly, the virtual disappearance of the deeply haunted looks in the brothers' eyes since the little girl had come into their lives. No. There was no turning back and right now, Claire only had a small window of opportunity to accomplish her goal with no time for complications.

"Well?"

"Oh sorry….I was trying to remember if I turned off the oven earlier." The lie was so pathetic she almost scoffed herself. Instead, Claire closed her eyes and shook her head, silently willing Dean to let it go. "Em's great. She had so much energy to burn when she woke up, that I had her running around half the morning playing tag trying to tire her out. She's taking a nap right now."

Dean sighed, his anger and worry deflating immediately. "Thanks Claire. You're doing such a great job with her."

"You're welcome, Dean," Claire responded quietly. Guilt really sucked.

"Okay, I was just checking in. Sam and I aren't really sure what's going on with this case yet but we've already got another victim. We'll give you a call when we've got more of an idea of how long this is gonna take."

"Sounds good," she answered, just as a notification came through on her phone. She opened her eyes and stared- it was from Mary. Claire's eyes darted across the street to find the woman giving her a death stare. Apparently, Claire was less Sherlock Holmes and more Inspector Gadget. Getting caught, especially this early, was both exceptionally unnerving and ego-deflating. Claire barely heard Dean say goodbye as she watched Mary approaching. She hung up, reflexively feeling for her gun as she got closer.

"Claire." Mary said flatly, leaning down to look into the car, "I thought we were going to meet later for dinner?"

"Hi Mary," Claire was rather proud of how matter-of-fact she sounded, even as her heart was pounding out of her chest, "I, uh, actually saw you earlier…."

"Don't you mean to say that you've been following me?" Mary glared at her with a knowing look, "I saw you, Claire."

Claire didn't bother making excuses, she just smiled. Her objective was to appear sympathetic to Mary's cause and she couldn't afford to piss her off right now. "If you're done with…uh..that …" She flicked her eyes over to the man who was currently laid out immobile on the asphalt, "….maybe we can catch an early meal now? Unless you need some help?"

Mary grim smile wasn't exactly reassuring, especially as it didn't reach her eyes. Claire swallowed thickly as the older woman looked at her assessingly for a moment before walking to the passenger side door and getting in.

"No, I'm all done here. Let's go back to my motel. I'm sure you know where that is, right?" she said, buckling up, "There was a pretty good diner across the street. After that, you can tell me what you you're really doing here."

"What about your car?" Claire asked. The look on Mary's face had her nodding quickly and starting the car.

* * *

Alex laughed as she watched Emma run around a tree. The drive to Wamego City Park from the Bunker had taken almost two hours, but watching Emma bouncing excitedly in her seat for almost the entire journey had been worth it. When they'd finally arrived, Emma had taken off out of the car like a shot, running across the grass to the flowers that surrounded the gazebo.

Alex shook her head, not even bothering to scold her but cursing the boys and their over-protectiveness in her head. She quickly pushed aside the negativity in order to enjoy the moment, following Emma who'd taken to darting between the different types of flowers, begging Alex to name them. Alex smiled and ran her hand down the girl's hair. Really, the kid was such a sweetheart. She took Emma's hand and led her over to the tulips nearby, trying to recall more details about them from high school biology. She picked one and gave it to Emma so she could feel it between her fingers as Alex talked about the six basi-fixed stamens. She was amused to see Emma's eyes cross as she stared down at it, running her hands over the head of the flower. Alex kept up the impromptu lesson as they made their way to the sunflowers next, ever closer to the gazebo steps. Emma was rapt with attention, especially when Alex mentioned going to see the old Dutch Windmill next. They were so caught up in their discussion, that neither noticed the two pairs of cold eyes staring at them from the safety of the copse of trees beyond the tennis courts.

"That must be the Winchester brat," the man named Stokely said to his inferior, "Did you get pictures of the other girl?"

"Yes sir," the other man replied, taking another few shots with his telephoto lens.

"Get those uploaded right away!" Stokely ordered gruffly, "Lady Bevell wants those A.S.A.P.!"

"Yes sir!"

Stokely glared at the two females making their way up the steps of the gazebo. To say that Lady Bevell had been 'rather stroppy' since she'd learned about Dean Winchester's child from the shape-shifter, was an understatement. Stokely understood that sometimes you had to get a little dirty for the greater good, but working with Rachael, that smug, kiss-ass abomination, pushed all his limits. Bevell was rather tightly stretched for manpower these days, seeing as she and the Executive were currently at odds. That meant that Rachael's position as Toni's favourite pet monster, along with her invaluable gift, made her untouchable- for now. Besides, with Bevell on the war path for the past few days, he had other priorities.

He and his men had been told to expect the unexpected and they hadn't been disappointed. Today was the first time that a child had been spotted leaving the Bunker since they'd begun staking out the place. The Winchester girl was supposedly still a toddler but the one being referred to as Emma today was at least six years old. Well, no matter her age, it was clear what she was- just another monster and blight on the world. Stokely's lip curled as he watched her laughing and running around the gazebo. He'd heard a lot about the Winchesters over the years and though he saw them as 'fly by the seat of your pants' Neanderthalic lugs, they _had_ managed to do some pretty impressive things. Dean Winchester, in particular, seemed to be a rather ruthless, if uncouth hunter, sworn to do his duty and rid the world of the scourge of the Supernatural. For him to shelter this 'thing' and treat like a _real_ child….well, clearly the brothers had lost their way. Stokely didn't like Lady Bevell but he and his men believed wholeheartedly in her cause. It took everything in him not to just take the _thing_ out now, but as a soldier, he understood the need for strategy. To that end, he'd let Rachael do her work. As of this morning, she'd be contacting Sam Winchester to follow through on their planned meeting. Once she got the intel, well, all gloves were off. Little Emma would make the perfect bait for her infamous father and uncle, and Stokely would be only too pleased to serve her up, alive or dead.

If the men surveilling the little girl and her minder weren't so focused on their targets' every move, they might have noticed the young man who was watching all of them. Though only nineteen, he'd lived many lifetimes already and had experienced just about all that the world had to offer. This past year had been different though, yet _very_ familiar. He'd seen the signs right away this time around, having only been eleven when he'd first become aware of the existence of monsters. Back then, the Winchesters had put the power in his hands by giving him a choice. He'd taken it, making it his mission to learn all about the _other_ world and _his_ place in it. The strengthening of his powers over the past year had been unsettling since they heralded the return of Lucifer. He'd managed to stay quiet and hidden through it all, not wanting to get involved in a war against The Darkness, God or anyone else. Recently, though, there was something different in the air. He'd been drawn inexplicably to Kansas and now he knew why. There were similarities between him and the girl, of course, she was a 'hafling' too, after all, but there was something more going on here. It was more than her being a Winchester, more than her being part Amazon, more than the fact that his powers were growing almost daily…..Whatever it was, he needed to understand it and clearly he wasn't alone. Jesse Turner stared at the men, particularly the one with murder in his eyes. Maybe he'd stick around a bit longer than he'd planned.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 **"** What exactly convinced you?" Mary looked curiously at the young woman across the table.

"Well, obviously you know that I spend most of my time with her." Claire adopted an earnest tone, knowing that she really only had one chance to sell this. "It's not just the obvious things like the quick aging, it's the rest of it. Like the way I see her watching Dean and Sam sometimes…as if she's just waiting and biding her time….I don't know, I can't really explain it. All know is that I'm worried…."

Mary nodded silently in understanding.

"….and obviously I can't talk to Sam or Dean about this 'cause they don't wanna hear it…" Claire paused, taking Mary's increasingly open posture as a positive sign, "..especially after your fight with them…."

Mary closed her eyes, regret flashing across her face before she neutralised her expression.

"Look, I didn't have anywhere else to turn, okay? You're the _only_ one who understands _,_ Mary _._ "

Neither woman spoke for a few moments, Claire practically holding her breath while Mary considered her revelations.

"I won't deny that you've…given me a lot to think about, Claire." The older woman said after a while, "I really appreciate your coming all the way up here to talk to me about this. After the way I left things with the boys, it's good to know that there's someone looking out for them…."

"I didn't really feel like I had a choice…"

"Yeah, I can just imagine…"

"I'm sorry?" Claire noted the sarcastic undertone in Mary's voice.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do here, really, but do you honestly think you can fool me with this little charade?"

"I don't know what…"

"Claire," Mary gave her a genuine smile, "I'm not sure what your end game is exactly, and it doesn't really matter because none of this is any of your business. The …"

"Well, Mary," Claire's voice was full of derision, "you kind of made it my business when you decided to rip Sam and Dean's hearts out…"

"Don't think for a minute that I don't know the pain I've caused my sons…!'

"Twice!" Claire interjected angrily, all pretense gone now.

"You can't possibly begin to understand this situation _, little girl_ , so don't think you can sit there and judge me _or_ my relationship with my sons…"

"Well, you'd be _wrong_ , actually. I lost my parents to supernatural forces too. My father, Jimmy? He was a good man and a wonderful Dad, but Castiel made him think that becoming his vessel was a privilege…..no, an obligation! He gave up his life, his family, this world….and for what? To try to stop some apocalypse? Sam and Dean just averted the supposed 'end of the world' again this past year. Hell, they'll probably be doing the same thing again next year and the year after that because the damned 'end of the world' happens around here all the time! My father died for nothing!"

Claire noticed that other patrons in the diner were staring. Without realizing, she'd gotten up from her seat and was leaning over the table, shouting in Mary's face. She sat down quickly, biting hard on her tongue to try to calm down. She continued a few moments later in a quieter voice. "My mother never got over it. She left me with my grandmother so she could go _find herself_ for four years. When I finally reconnected with her, she was being tortured by another one of Heaven's divine frauds. She ended up having to sacrifice herself to save me. So you tell me, Mrs. Winchester, does any of that sound _familiar_ to you? Self-sacrificing parents, killed by supernatural means….?"

"This isn't remotely the same situation…" Mary allowed some sympathy to enter her voice.

"What? You mean, parentless children who've been miraculously gifted with second chances that blow up in their faces? Nope, sounds _exactly_ like the same situation! How're you so blind? You're screwing up your shot to change the ending here!"

"That's exactly what I'm _not_ doing," Mary hissed, "Do have any idea why I'm here in Broken Bow?"

"Revisiting your glory days, from what I've seen," Claire replied, contemptuously.

"Not exactly." Mary chose to ignore the young woman's hostility. "The Roadhouse was one of _John's_ safe havens. I've been reading his journal, trying to understand what he went through after I died. He was the love of my life and he got caught up in this world because of me. I grew up in the life. My father was a highly disciplined, highly trained hunter who believed in following the rules… a code. I was young, and idealistic…thought I knew better than he did. Thought he was too old-fashioned and too rigid. I told him that I wanted more out of life- a husband, kids, a house in the suburbs, so I left the hunting to him and my cousins. That didn't work out so well. I was _so_ proud, _so_ stubborn and I forgot everything he ever taught me and let my guard down. I made a deal with Azazel for them and my father and husband died anyway. And my son….he tainted my son. I'll never be that weak again!" Mary hissed, her intensity scaring Claire somewhat, "I'm not wasting my second chance, Claire, I'm making sure that I do it _right_ this time. And I'm not abandoning my sons. I love them more than my own life. That's why I'm going to do any and everything I can to protect them. You're right, we _are_ alike, Claire. Monsters destroyed our lives…that thing, _Emma,_ is just that- a _monster_. I don't care how sweet she seems, or if she loves puppies or gummy bears… that _creature_ will try to kill my son and I won't let that happen, even if it means that he'll end up hating me."

"And how are you going to protect them while you're out there driving around the country?" Claire asked, deciding not to give up just yet.

Mary smiled at her again but didn't answer. Instead, she said, "It really was good to see you Claire. I'd ask you to tell the boys that I miss them, but something tells me you didn't exactly share your travel itinerary with them, right? Shouldn't you be getting back to Lebanon? I mean, what exactly did you do with Emma?"

"Like you said, it was good to see you, Mary," Claire tossed down a twenty on the table, standing up and picking up her jacket. "Food's on me. Sorry I wasted both our times!"

Storming out of the diner without another word, Claire had to acknowledge to herself that she'd failed miserably. She'd tried her best, sharing details of her life that she'd rather just as soon forget, and still not making a dent. Claire revved the engine of her car as she peeled out of the parking lot, almost slamming into an S.V.U. as she crossed three lanes of oncoming traffic to get back to the highway. She couldn't return to the Bunker feeling like this. The drive home wasn't going to be remotely long enough to quell this anger and she didn't want to scare Emma. Claire needed to hurt something, to _kill_ something. She needed to hunt. Well, Alex was down from South Dakota for a few more days. There was time to find that trouble she was looking for.

* * *

"You know, I was thinkin'…we passed a bakery on the way into town. Sign said, 'Best pie for a thousand miles'."

"So _now_ you want pie?" Sam looked over at his brother's self-satisfied smirk with amusement.

"I killed Hitler. I think I deserve some pie," Dean stated confidently, starting Baby's engine, "Did I mention I killed Hitler?"

"Oh my God, I'm never gonna hear the end of this, am I?" Sam closed his eyes, the future years of gloating flashing through his mind and making him shudder.

"Probably not," Dean replied happily, knowing exactly what his brother was imagining and feeling like he'd won the lottery.

"I'm gonna call Claire," Sam said, as Dean tapped his fingers to 'Born to be Wild.' She answered on the second ring. "Hey kid, how're things back at the ranch?"

"Uh…..awesome!" Claire's eyes widened as she quickly hopped off the bar stool, pirouetting her way around a passed out drunk and a couple who were getting hot and heavy right in front of the door leading to the back alley. She stepped outside, the putrid smell from the three large dumpsters to her right immediately assaulting her senses and making her gag.

"You okay?" Sam questioned, the sounds coming from her end were loud yet unintelligible, "Claire?"

"Uh yeah, sorry, popcorn went down the wrong way and the T.V. was kinda loud." Claire tried to steady her voice, "How's it going?"

"I killed Hitler!" She heard Dean shout in the background as Sam sighed.

"What?" she asked, puzzled, "What's he talking about?" If she could keep the focus on them, she might get through this conversation intact, "Hitler?"

"The case is over," Sam answered, smacking Dean on the shoulder to shut him up, "Too much to really explain over the phone but do you remember that group we talked about, the Thule?"

"The…Nazi guys?" Claire was surprised. Sam had told them her all about them during one of their sessions.

"Yeah. Let's just say they reared their ugly heads again. They resurrected Hitler and Dean killed him. That exciting tale is gonna have to wait until he's had a chance to share it with you himself though, okay? 'Cause I wouldn't dream of sparing you…I mean, taking that experience away from you."

Claire couldn't help but chuckle at that. Poor Sam. She could only imagine how many times he'd had to listen to Dean's recounting of his most recent accomplishment.

"So how's Emma? Can I talk to her?" Sam asked, noting that Claire was muffling the phone again.

"She's wonderful, really great!" Claire exclaimed overly brightly, immediately cursing her lack of guile, "but I just put her down for a nap so…."

Sam wasn't quite sure what was going on but he knew that Claire reserved that level of enthusiasm for only two things: pepperoni and mushroom pizza and verbal sparring sessions with Dean. He was pretty sure she'd tell them if something serious was going on but this was about the eighth time they'd spoken to Claire since they'd left nearly three days ago, and Emma was always mysteriously indisposed when they called. Sam glanced over at Dean who was looking at him with some concern.

"Everything okay, Claire?" Sam kept his tone light, as Dean raised his eyebrows at him in question.

"Absolutely. That was a quick case, huh? Are you guys on the way back then?"

"Uh, yeah, we're stopping for a bite to eat and then we're gonna drive straight through. We'll be there in maybe fifteen or sixteen hours."

"Great! We'll see you then. Gonna go check on Em and the…the pie."

"Hey Dean, Claire's making you a pie."

Claire cursed herself. She needed to get off the phone before she said something even stupider.

"Tell her I want lemon meringue!" she heard Dean shout, "Heavy on the meringue."

"Dude, you're about to have pie right now, how much more do you need?"

"I made apple." Claire closed her eyes and rubbed them, chanting 'Stop talking you idiot!' repeatedly in her head.

"Don't worry about it, Claire, he'll live!" Sam laughed, "Give Emma a kiss from both of us. See you soon!"

"Bye!" Claire replied, hanging up.

She was fourteen hours away herself and pretty sure that, since she'd been avoiding Alex's calls all day, she'd never be able to convince her to bake a pie. The other girl was becoming increasingly concerned about how long it was taking for Claire to return and therefore the increasing risk of getting caught.

Claire was actually in the middle of a hunt of her own in Wyoming. After leaving Mary, she'd been scouring the internet for potential cases anywhere in the surrounding states and had happened upon a series of online articles about four missing young women in Casper. The cases didn't really seem to be connected, or at least the authorities hadn't presented them as such, and it wasn't hard to see why. The women were from different walks of like, races and ages, with no discernible connection to each other. Three of them had vanished without a trace over the past six months but the fourth, a twenty-three year old who'd disappeared two weeks ago, had been spotted on grainy security footage accompanied by a mysterious male figure only hours before her disappearance. For what it was worth, the police had distributed a very muddled screen capture hoping for any information on his identity.

When Claire had first read them, she'd breezed over the older news reports, including the photo. However, two days ago, a local Uber driver had claimed that he'd been attacked by the first victim. Curiosity peaked at this magical reappearance, she'd found that the incident had been covered by the local news, a clip of an interview with the driver on their website. He wasn't exactly the picture of a reliable witness. His disheveled appearance, bloodshot eyes and slurred speech suggested he might be 'on something'. The reporter looked vaguely amused as the man animatedly recounted picking up this 'hot chick' who said that she couldn't pay, but that she would 'rock his world' if he'd agree to take her to this underground rave. Ten seconds later, he'd done just that. She'd kept coming on to him the whole ride too, 'softening him up, apparently.' When they'd finally arrived outside an abandoned warehouse and he'd turned to get his 'payment', he'd realized his mistake. She must have been one of those 'Y.A., Twilight-loving, blood-sucker wannabes' cause she was wearing fake claws and fangs and she'd attacked him. He'd thought he was a goner- closing his eyes and waiting to die. When nothing happened, he'd opened them to find that she'd just….left. The man then raged that he'd driven straight to the cops but they'd practically laughed him out of the department. The clip had then switched to one of the detectives who'd said that they'd checked out the area and surveillance footage along the route. According to him, there was absolutely no evidence of the driver's claims whatsoever. Even the 'alleged' Uber booking didn't exist in the company's servers. The police had, however, charged him with misdemeanor cannabis possession and let him 'sleep it off' in a cell while awaiting his arraignment. The officer had then said that the whole episode had not only been a waste of tax payer resources, but was likely to cause unnecessary pain to a family who was already grieving over the disappearance of their daughter.

Claire wasn't fooled though. The list of potential monsters here was limited….vampires. She'd quickly gone back over the previous cases, realizing that all of the disappearances had occurred within a ten-mile radius of that warehouse. Studying the photo more closely, she'd recognized what was hardly noticeable by the untrained eye- the male figure's fingernails were long and sharp. After that discovery, she'd almost rubbed her hands together in anticipation. In truth, she was beginning to feel rusty, hunting-wise. If she could just get one good case in, the 'high' might last until she could cajole Sam and Dean into ending their 'kid-glove' treatment of her…..or until she just told them off and did what she wanted anyway. Needless to say, she'd hightailed it to Casper and had started interviewing family, friends and colleagues of the victims. That had been an immediate dead end; she wasn't able to get any new leads and unsurprisingly, the police hadn't been particularly forthcoming when her only option was to pretend to be an out-of-town reporter rather than law enforcement. Sometimes her youth was a major obstacle in this job.

So, with little choice, she'd begun staking out the area around the warehouse instead. When two nights had passed without another soul passing through, Claire had to wonder just how badly her skills had been eroded since her short stint as the Bunker's resident babysitter. Vampires usually lived in nests together, hibernating during the day, coming out at night. She'd at least expected to see one of them venture out in search for 'food' after dark. Well, thus far she'd been sorely mistaken and had almost given up, her pride and confidence severely stung. It was a little before dusk that third night when she spotted a figure on a motorbike emerging from a side door of an adjacent building. She'd tried to be as careful as she could, setting up shop upwind from the warehouse and attempting to keep her heart rate nice and steady. With any luck, she'd be mistaken for a stray cat or something. When he didn't seem to notice her, she breathed a mental sigh of relief and waited for a few minutes before following him. That's how she'd ended up at this rather rough, biker bar clear across the other side of the city, watching her suspect- a rather handsome thirty-something year old man, chatting up the female bartender. He really just seemed to be an ordinary patron out for a night at the bar. Claire had begun questioning herself again, thinking that she really _was_ a lost cause, when the boys had called. Now they were heading back to the Bunker and she had nothing to show for this entire ill-conceived trip.

With a deep sigh, she dialed Alex's number. There was no way for her to pack up and make it back to Kansas before Sam and Dean.

"Hey, you two good?" Claire was only just realizing that the back door of the bar had locked behind her and that there was no way to get back in. It had gotten dark since she'd come out here and now she was alone, standing under a single, dimly lit bulb at one end of a similarly dark, long, narrow alleyway.

Alex had moved on from reassuring her that she and Em were alive and well, to proudly filling Claire in on their activities for the past few days. Claire hoped that she'd misheard Alex say 'trip to the park' because she was pretty sure she'd explicitly told her, and in no uncertain terms to boot, that Em was _not to leave the Bunker_. About to call her on it, as well as break the news of Sam and Dean's impending arrival, Claire felt an almost imperceptible change in her surroundings; the hackles suddenly rising on the back of her neck. Someone else was here.

"Seen you hanging around the bar…..Saw you watching me…." a low, seductive voice came from her left. "What's a pretty little girl like _you_ , doin' in the rough part a town all by herself?"

"Uhhh," Claire said quietly into the phone, slowly reaching for the mini machete tucked behind her, "I'll, uh, have to call you back."

"What's your name, girl?" The voice was coming closer, as she ended the call. She hadn't even worked out his exact location yet, but already she was starting to feel boxed in.

Claire responded immediately, trying to sound as innocent and naive as…. "Alex."

"Alex." The word was drawn out as if he was savouring the taste of it on his tongue. "It suits you."

Suddenly he was in front of her, leaning over and encasing her with his hands on either side of her head. She was trapped against the door, the arm grasping the blade pressing painfully into her back.

"And…what's..what's your name?" Claire attempted to steady her voice and her heartbeat.

"They call me Thumper."

She was thrown off for a moment. "Thumper?"

"Cause I love the sound of my woman's heartbeat…..under my ear…when she's under me…" He suddenly pushed his ear against her chest, Claire gasping in surprise. "There it is, baby, thump,thump….thump,thump…"

"Uh, Thumper….?"

"…This is a dangerous place, Blondie, lots of scary people around….maybe you should come with me so I can protect you. Would you like that?" He smirked, as he ran his finger along the collar of her shirt.

"Oh, I don't know. I don't scare that easy," Claire laughed, trying to keep the conversation as light and flirtatious as possible, "I'm tougher than I look." The vampire was still too close and she needed room if she was going to defend herself.

"Oh sweetheart, I don't think you've ever met _anyone_ as scary as me." 'Thumper' pushed his face into her neck and Claire stopped breathing for a second. "You smell good enough to eat, Alex."

She swore she could feel his teeth elongating on her skin and did the only thing she could think of in the moment. He stared down at her in shock as she dropped like a dead weight straight onto the ground. He began to say her name, surprised when the only sound that came out of him was a garbled, croaking noise. He looked down, his eyes practically crossed as he gaped at the glint of the shiny metal that was sticking out of him. It took all of Claire's willpower not to scream out loud, the adrenaline running through her making it almost impossible to keep her shaking arm elevated anymore. The machete in her hand was lodged straight through his throat, the angle of her strike such that the blade just protruded out the back of his neck. He staggered back from her, clutching at his throat, eyes wide in bewilderment as Claire got to her feet, managing to hold on. Running on pure instinct, she readjusted her grip on the handle, using both hands to push the blade all the way through.

The vampire dropped to his knees, the blood from the terrible wound spraying all over both of them. She pulled the blade out quickly and paused, her 'inner Dean' emerging for a moment. "Say hi to Bambi's Mom for me!" Claire swung with all her might, slicing his head clean off, the force causing it to fly off clear over one of the dumpsters.

She stared after it and then at the body for a moment before she felt her whole body start to collapse. She staggered back, reaching for the wall to steady herself and to stay upright as the reality of the situation settled over her. She had been lucky…. _damned_ lucky and she cursed herself as she pictured the boys' reactions. Dean's anger would burn fast and hot, with lots of swearing and threatening of bodily harm but Sam's disapproval, with his patented look of equal parts concern and disappointment, would be devastating. She deserved both for this lapse in judgement, but there was no way she was ever going to let them find out about this. She had to get back to the Bunker before they did and she had to leave right now. Claire wiped the blade off on Thumper's shirt and then tucked it in the sheath beneath her jacket. With a furtive glance around, she pulled out a matchbook, lit the whole thing and tossed it on the body. This whole fiasco reminded her of a case she'd read about in one of the Supernatural books where a vampire named Dixon had tried to repopulate his nest by turning unsuspecting young women. Given the attack on the Uber driver, at least one of the Casper victims had been turned. If they caught her scent on his body, they'd come after her (not to mention the cops) so she had to make sure that all of her DNA was gone. Her heart still pounding, she quickly ran down the alley to the main street; she needed to get back out to the highway and fast.

* * *

"Was that Sophie?" Sam asked, with a knowing grin as he got out of the Impala.

Dean looked over at him with narrowed eyes as he put his phone back into his pocket. "You know that it was, smart ass. Maybe my saying, "Hey Sophie" when she called, clued you in?"

"Actually, it was more that dopey, love-struck expression on your face and that faraway look in your eyes…" Sam teased, as Dean slapped his shoulder, hard. Sam slapped him back, earning a glare from his older brother.

"So…..?"

Dean considered telling him to mind his own business for a moment, then decided it wasn't worth the relentless pestering he'd likely have to endure. He certainly wasn't the only stubborn member of the Winchester family and Sam would never let this go.

"She wanted to come visit," he answered, his tone holding a tinge of regret, "Things are….complicated right now. I didn't want her getting mixed up in the stuff we have going on…."

"Dean….," Sam said quietly, following his brother up the garage stairs.

"It's okay, Sam." Dean stopped to look back at him. "She's got some leave coming up…we'll work it out. Maybe when things cool down….."

"When exactly _is_ that?" Sam persisted, recognizing the signs instantly. Dean always did this when attraction and flirting began turning into something 'more.' Ever since he'd had to give up Lisa and Ben, the mere thought of another long-term commitment potentially ending in disaster, precluded anything more meaningful than a one-night stand. Sophie represented the first real shot at a relationship for Dean in a long time and Sam didn't want his brother to give up that chance. Not when so many things were actually turning around for them like surviving The Darkness essentially intact, their mother returning, Emma and Claire...he just needed to help Dean see that.

"Sammy, leave it, okay?" Dean admonished him without heat. He knew exactly what Sam was thinking by that earnest look on his face and, though he appreciated the effort, he just didn't want to get into it. Right now, all he wanted to do was hug his kid, take a shower, grab a few cold ones, and regale the Bunker's inhabitants with the story of his towering triumph over Hitler. At that last thought, he broke into a wide grin, opening the door to the Bunker.

Two things took him immediately by surprise. One was the young girl that came bounding towards him, barely letting him get off the top stair before torpedoing her body into his. Her arms wrapped around him, squeezing him in a surprisingly powerful death grip before he'd even thought to hug her back. The second, was seeing Alex Jones with a crestfallen look on her face as if she was expecting to see someone else. It was Sam that beat him to his inevitable question.

"Alex?" His brother cleared the staircase, closing the door behind them, "What are you doing here?"

"Daddy!" Emma shouted, finally loosening her grip enough to peer up at her father, "I missed you so much! You and Uncle Sammy were gone so long!"

"Baby girl!" he exclaimed, looking down at her excited face, "Look how big you are!"

"I know!" she said proudly, "I'm not a baby anymore, Daddy, you can't call me 'baby girl'!"

"Oh yes I can, pipsqueak, 'cause you'll always be my baby girl." Dean started to tickle Em, grinning as she giggled and hyperventilated trying to get away from him. When he felt she'd suffered enough, he plucked her off the ground, swinging her in the air, "I missed you so much, Em! You have no idea how much!"

Sam smiled at his brother and niece, turning to Alex again with an expectant look on his face. "Alex?"

"Uhhhh…..I've been babysitting. Claire had a…a few things she needed to do so she asked me to watch Emma. We had a great time…" Alex looked over at Dean nervously.

"Yeah, Daddy!" Emma jiggled up and down, signaling that she wanted to get down. As soon as Dean placed her on her feet, she took off like a shot to the library, screaming as she ran, "I got a panda, Daddy!"

"Emma!" he called after her, "Slow down!"

She came flying back to them with a stuffed bear in her hand, plowing straight into Sam who'd followed to make sure she was okay. He had to catch her when she almost fell backwards with the force of the impact.

"Woah, Em," he said, steadying her, "No running in the Bunker, okay? You could get hurt."

Emma looked up at him and grinned, throwing her arms around his hips as she hugged him. "Look at my panda, Uncle Sammy! I got it from Wally's!"

Sam smiled down at her, stroking his hand over her hair. He was pretty sure it'd grown at least five inches since they'd left for Ohio. "Wally's?"

"She means Walmart," Alex interjected, the look on both men's faces darkening.

"He's really cute, Em, what's his name?" Sam's schooled his features as he bent down to take a closer look at the bear she was clutching to her chest.

" _Her_ name, Uncle Sammy, she's a _girl_!" Emma scolded, an exasperated look on her face that made him laugh.

"Okay, _her_ name." Sam answered, ruffling her hair.

"I named her Lydie!" Emma said proudly, not noticing the fleeting look of panic on Dean's face.

"What else did you get up to, Em?" Dean quickly changed the subject and gave Sam a look as he moved to pick her up again.

"Yesterday we went to Wally's, and the Museum and then the park again. I ran through all the flowers….they were so pretty, Daddy!" Emma looked wistful as she looked at her father, "Alex said we could go to the 'middle place' but we had to come home 'cause we didn't want you to…"

"She means the Geographic Centre Marker," Alex quickly interjected with a nervous laugh, "We….uh, just didn't get the time."

"I'll bet you didn't," Dean gave her a knowing glare, making her squirm. To Emma he said, "Why don't you let Uncle Sam get you a snack from the kitchen while I talk to Alex, hmmmm?"

"Yeah, Em, let's find you some apple slices." Sam took Emma from Dean, giving his brother a look to remind him to hold his temper.

When they were out of earshot, Dean turned to study Alex for a moment in silence. She started to fidget almost immediately, unable to look him in the eye. He was palpably angry but not really at her. Of course, she didn't need to know that- yet. Right now, he wanted explanations.

"First of all, thank you for looking after Em, Alex. She's obviously had a wonderful time and I'm glad that she did…" he paused, trying his best not to start shouting, "Where is Claire?"

"She should be on the way back…."

"So every time we called from the road to check up on her and Emma, you were here and she was off somewhere…."

"She didn't really tell me much, just that she needed some time to do a few things and asked if I could watch Em. She planned on being back before…." The words caught in Alex's throat.

"Oh, there's no doubt in my mind that she's probably driving like a bat outta Hell to get back. How long have you been here?"

"Uh, a few days…"

"What's a few?"

"Ummmm, four days."

"So you two've been planning this for a while then, huh? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you'd have needed some advanced notice to get here all the way from Sioux Falls around the same time that Sam and I left?" Dean crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her.

"Dean," Alex said quietly, "I'm really…"

"Claire told you about how special Emma is, right? About her aging?"

"Yes."

"And did she also mention that she's in a lotta danger because of who and what she is?" Dean was finding it so hard to wrangle his anger long enough to have a civil conversation. "Better still, did she tell you that I DIDN'T WANT HER LEAVING THE BUNKER?"

Alex stuttered another one word answer that ramped up Dean's ire by a thousand. He was about ten seconds away from starting a true interrogation when he heard someone behind him, softly calling his name. He spun around to see Claire, the shirt under her jacket absolutely covered in dried blood and her eyes red like she'd been crying.

"Jesus!" He moved quickly towards her, grabbing and holding her at arm's length as he searched her for injuries, "Claire, are you hurt?"

She didn't answer- possibly due to shock until he shook her slightly. "No, I'm fine, Dean. It's…it's not mine."

"Oh my God!" Sam entered the room again, holding Emma's hand as she skipped along beside him.

Dean shielded her from Emma's view, quickly directing Alex to take his daughter back to her room. Alex scooped her up and was out of the room in mere seconds as Sam rushed to Claire's side, grabbing her and repeating Dean's frantic search for wounds. Once he'd reassured himself that she was unhurt, he dragged her into a crushing bear hug that took her breath away. Then he pushed her back just as quickly, giving her a little shake for good measure.

"Is this something we need to worry about right now?" Dean nodded towards her shirt. Claire shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes.

They were all silent for a moment and then….

"What the hell, Claire?" Sam began, letting her go and taking a step back so he wouldn't strangle her.

Claire opened her mouth to reply but couldn't seem to get any words out. Sam was about to start up again when Dean held up his hand, making his brother go silent.

"Claire, you should go clean up. We're gonna go make you something to eat. I want you in the kitchen in twenty minutes. Once you're fed, you, me and Sam are gonna talk this all out. No, don't say anything." Dean shook his head at her and the attempt at an argument died on her lips, "I'm sure I speak for both of us when I say that we're a _little_ furious with you right now, so you're gonna go do what I said and give us some time to cool off. Go. Now!"

Claire was rooted to the spot, frozen with indecision. It went without saying that she didn't want to antagonize them right now by disobeying. Dean was livid as expected but Sam was barely able to look at her. Claire could tell that he was trying to moderate it, but the look on his face reflected his disappointment, as predicted, and it was almost too much to bear. All she wanted to do was confess and beg for his forgiveness. She stared at Sam for a few seconds more but a sudden movement from Dean towards her, had her taking a step back. He never uttered a sound but the sheer intensity on his face and look in his eyes, made her take a few more until she was turning and heading quickly back to her room.

Both Winchesters stared after her and then looked at each other.

"I swear if she didn't move I was gonna kill her," Dean growled quietly, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

"She's already scared and upset, Dean, she didn't need the extra helping of intimidation…"

"Yeah, she's scared and upset…because she got caught, Sam!" Dean exploded suddenly, giving his brother a scornful look, "Don't think she's going to get any sympathy from me…"

Dean wrestled to get control of himself yet again, nodding towards the kitchen. He headed straight to the fridge, grabbing some eggs and a slab of bacon. Clearly, he was barely keeping it together if his quick, jerky movements were any indication. He all but threw the frying pan onto a burner, turning it on full blast.

"I can't believe she did this," he began, cracking the entire carton of eggs into a bowl, "She knows what's at stake here. We gave her the rules and she agreed to them. After all the talks we've had, for her to….."

"I agree with you, Dean…" Sam replied placatingly, "But I think we need to hear her out first before we pass down sentence and execute her, okay? I know she wants to be here with us but it's been one thing after the other so far. We need to find out what's going on in her head otherwise this is going to keep happening."

Dean glared at him as he threw all of the bacon into the pan. There was immediate hissing and splattering which Dean ignored as he started beating the eggs. Sam pulled him back from the stove, turned down the flames and moved the pan to another burner.

"Dean!" Sam said firmly, holding onto his brother's arm when he tried to pull away, "Take a walk! Claire will be back here any minute and you're not remotely ready…."

"I'm fine!" Dean disentangled himself none too gently, "I'm…."

"Shut up!" Sam shouted, his patience near an end, "Grab a beer and go figure out how to take it down a notch!"

Dean closed his eyes and counted to ten, then twenty and then thirty. Sam was right. He opened his eyes, gave Sam a barely perceptible nod and walked out. Sam sighed and turned back to the stove, getting to work. He had his own anger to deal with but it seemed like he was going to be stuck playing referee, as usual. Claire was a mini-Dean, as stubborn and pigheaded as his brother on his worst day. If this upcoming confrontation was going to be nothing more than a huge shouting match where both sides hurled insults, accusations and potshots with reckless abandon, he was going to have to put aside his own fury to protect both sides from permanently damaging their relationship.

It was only a few more minutes because he sensed someone behind him.

"Come in," Sam said quietly, putting two more slices of bread into the toaster, "Grab a plate before it gets any colder."

He didn't turn around but he knew from the sound of the footfalls that it was Claire. He stacked the last of the toast onto a plate and turned to put it on the table. Claire was obviously nervous. Her hair was still damp from the shower and with the sweats and t-shirt, she looked so young. Though she was trying to hide them, the tears in her eyes had him pulling her in for a hug. She wrapped her arms around him immediately and he could feel her shaking and hear her sniffling. He gave her another strong squeeze and then gently pushed her away so that he could look at her.

"Sit down at eat something, okay?"

Claire gave him a wan smile and nodded, slipping onto a seat and grabbing a plate. Dean walked in soon afterward, sitting down opposite her. Sam could see her carefully avoiding eye contact with his brother as the two of them pretended the other didn't exist. Sam sat down next to Dean and grabbed his own plate. He was starving and he knew that it wasn't going to be long before this awkward display of domesticity would descend into unpleasant hostilities again. Fifteen minutes later, when there were no more cups of coffee left for Dean to drink, no more eggs for Claire to push aimlessly around her plate and Sam couldn't stand glancing furtively between them anymore, Dean cleared his throat and looked pointedly at his brother. He pushed himself away from the table and crossed his arms, staring down at the squirming Claire. When Sam glared pointedly at this pose, Dean huffed gracelessly and dropped his arms to grip the side of the table instead. He was about to start the interrogation when Claire beat him to it.

"I'm sorry I let you both down," she said quietly to the table, shifting in her seat a little, "I know you're both mad at me and I don't blame you. All….all I can say is that I thought I was doing the right thing but really, I don't have any excuses…."

"You're right, you don't." Dean's voice was remarkably even in contrast to his demeanour, "I don't want self-reflection, I want explanations. Why'd you leave the Bunker without telling us?"

"I…I needed some time for myself. I've been locked up in here for days and I just needed a little fresh air…"

"I'm supposed to believe you broke down and called Alex, your archenemy, so you could feel the sunlight on your face and the cool wind in your hair?" Dean scoffed, looking over at Sam with an incredulous look on his face.

"Ummm…."

"You know, I get why you'd lie every time we called to check on you and Emma, but to not tell us that she'd aged again…..Claire, I just don't understand how you could do that to Dean?"

Claire wiped her eyes, refusing to look at either of them.

"I'd like an answer for that too?" Dean asked sharply, "She'd my kid, Claire, that's the sort of thing I'd _kinda_ like to know about."

The sarcasm seemed to trigger something in her, and Claire slammed her hand down on the table, suddenly flashing with anger, "Don't you think I know that? I felt…feel like shit, okay? I don't need you to point out what a complete asshole I've been."

"Hey!'

"Woah!" Sam said, putting his hand up, "Stop! This is getting us nowhere. We know that you're sorry okay? What we want to know is why. Why you'd leave Em and the Bunker without telling us, where you've been the last few days, why you were covered in blood when you got back and what was so important that you'd break our trust like this? And getting Alex involved in this? Did you actually tell her about all the dangers facing this family right now? I almost hope not, because her taking Emma outside, no matter how harmless a day in the park might've seemed, is just so reckless I don't even know where to start.

Alex is not a hunter and she's a stranger to Em. We have no idea what Emma's capable of at this stage of her growth…Alex could have been seriously hurt or killed if Emma felt threatened by her. And exposing her to the public? Do you realise that Lebanon's population is only around two hundred? We're already a bit of an oddity around here anyways so we try to keep a low profile. The sudden appearance of a child is going to raise questions- Who does she belong to? Why isn't she in school? Why does no one see her around more? If we were currently taking her all over town, people might find it strange that we kept turning up with older and older girls, with no trace of the younger ones?" Sam looked over at Dean who hadn't stop glaring at Claire.

"Obviously we've wanted to take Emma to the park or to watch her go crazy in a toy department just like any other kid, but without careful planning the risks are too great….and _you know that_!" Sam paused, the increasingly miserable look on Claire's face telling him that he that was definitely getting through to her, "I agree that we haven't considered how stir crazy you've been here every day with only Emma for company, and we're both sorry, but moving forward, this can't ever happen again or we're going to have to make different arrangements. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Good, so no more stalling and no more feeling sorry for yourself. You tell us _exactly_ what we want to know or you're going back to Jodie's when we take Alex home." Sam ordered sternly.

Claire looked up in alarm. "No, please, you can't do that! I don't want to go back to South Dakota…."

"Then tell us!"

Claire closed her mouth and sat back in her chair. With a huge sigh, she began fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. Dean was about to prod her again but Sam stopped with him with a small shake of the head.

"I went to find Mary…"

"You _what_?" Dean shouted, completely taken aback, "I… _what_?"

Claire flinched again and Sam turned his bitch face on Dean. "Let her talk."

Claire gave him a grateful look, rolling her shoulders as she visibly steeled herself. Then she tried again. "I know how she hurt you, Dean. What she said about Emma? That little girl, she…she and Sammy are everything to you and I know what it's like to lose my mother….I wanted to tell her, I mean, I wanted her to understand what that was like….why she couldn't just walk away…."

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Neither of them had expected this.

"What did she say?" Sam asked, quietly.

"Nothing you didn't hear the first time," Claire replied, some grit in her voice, "I wanted to slug her…Oh, sorry!"

"We get it," Dean muttered, almost to himself, "Look, Claire, I appreciate what you were trying to do, but you don't have to worry about any of that. There's so much history involved in this, so many things you don't understand or know about the Winchesters…..This isn't something you can solve for us…"

"It's not something _to_ be solved," Sam interjected, his voice filled with understanding, "We love that you wanted to try to make things better, but this was just….."

"Yeah, I was pretty stupid…."

"No, you're family, kid, and Sam and I know a thing or two about doing stupid things for this family." Dean gave Claire a little smile and she returned it. "Now, before this gets any sappier, how about you tell us where the blood came from."

Claire's face fell but, seeing Sam's encouraging nod from the corner of her eye, she felt reassured that he wouldn't kill her… or let Dean do so either- probably.

"I was trying to, uh, get back here before you guys." She looked over at Dean whose facial expression hadn't changed so she continued, "I stopped to get directions and something to eat at this…, well, it was a 'hole'. I don't know how it happened, I mean, I didn't even realize he was there and when I stepped out back to talk to you, this vamp came out of nowhere. It happened really fast and it was so scary, but I got him. After….I just got outta there and drove home."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, having one of their silent conversations while Claire just managed not roll her eyes; she really hated it when they did this. Dean turned to her after a moment with a grim smile on his face. It didn't reach his eyes.

"Do you want to try that again?" he suggested, "'Cause the crap that you're shoveling is starting to smell downwind over here."

"I don't know what you mean?" Claire replied with feigned innocence, "Why would I lie about that?

"Because believe it or not, we know you. There's no way in Hell you'd let the opportunity to hunt pass you by when you were already out there. Every time we go out on a job…..that look in your eyes? I've seen that look in the mirror, kid, I _am_ that look!" Dean practically dared her to deny it as he glared at her.

Claire shook her head anyway and Dean held up his hand to stop her from digging herself any deeper. "Don't bother, kid. We know that _you_ went after that vampire. The way you were shaking when you walked in….it was a pretty close thing, right? I'm gonna let you plead the fifth for now, because I'm so angry about this, that I'm afraid of what I might say to you. But Claire, look at me…" he waited for her to do so, "…and _hear_ me… . ! We train you and you do as we say- our arrangement hasn't changed. We've been doin' this a lotta years, so this is a rare opportunity for you to benefit from all that experience. If you don't get that, then I don't really think you're ready to be out on your own. Jody's basically left you alone since you've gotten here, right? No doubt she assumes that we're keeping you safe? If you think for one minute that we're gonna let you get yourself killed so that I gotta deliver you back to her in a pine box, you're outta your mind! How you managed to get her to be okay with all this in the first place…"

Claire flinched slightly, a classic sign that she was hiding something. Sam picked up on it immediately. "Claire, please tell me that Jody knows that you're with us and that you're okay?"

"Yeah, I told her that I visited you…."

"Visited?" Dean pounced, "And where exactly are you supposed to be now?"

"Um, checking out schools nearby?"

Dean's expression would have turned her to stone if she'd been able to look him in the eyes.

"Really?" Sam asked incredulously, "I don't even know what to say to…"

"I do," Dean interrupted, fire flashing in his eyes, "You're grounded!"

Both Claire and Sam stared at him for a moment before Claire laughed in disbelief. "I'm twenty, remember? We had this conversation..."

"Are you? Because you haven't been acting like it."

"Sam?" She turned to the other man, expecting him to intervene. Instead he shrugged, "I'm with Dean on this. You could have gotten yourself killed! Not to mention the number you've done on our trust. I don't think it's unreasonable for you to take some time to think about that and about how your actions have hurt us. We love you, Claire. We know you're determined to become a hunter and though neither of us is thrilled about that idea, we _do_ understand it- probably better than anyone. Dean and I don't want anything to happen to you. We want you to be better and smarter than us, but you've got to work with us, not against us…."

Claire pursed her lips and said petulantly, "You know, I didn't trade a prison in South Dakota for another one in Kansas."

Everyone was quiet for a few moments as she and Dean had an angry staring contest between them.

"And we're not going to let your impetuousness get you killed. Dean's right. You're like our daugh…uh…apprentice, and this is us doing our job. Now, do you trust us that we want to help you and keep you safe, or not?"

The earnestness in Sam's voice made Claire feel like an absolute jackass. Deep down, she was still bristling from the notion of having someone tell her what to do. She'd been taking care of herself for so long that bending to the will of others wasn't remotely natural for her. That didn't mean she wanted them thinking that she didn't trust them because she did, unequivocally. Claire would never be able to thank the Winchesters enough for all they'd done for her, even if she didn't always remember how much she should appreciate it.

"I'm sorry," she replied simply, "I'll do whatever you want."

"Good," Dean nodded in satisfaction. He got up and walked over to her and dragged her into a hug. Kissing her hair, he said, "You're going to call Jody right now and tell her everything. I'm going to put the fear of God into Alex for agreeing to all this and then I'm going to spend some time with my kid." With a grin he added, "Then I'll tell you all about how I killed Hitler!"

Sam glared at his brother's retreating back in exasperation, getting up to hug Claire, threatening to skin her alive if she ever scared him like this again.

"We're going to have to talk about what really happened with this vampire but in the meantime, do you have anything you need to tell us? Don't worry about me getting angry. Is there a nest we need to do something bout?'

Claire was quiet for a minute and then she nodded silently.

"All right, write down the coordinates and all your intel. We'll get some Hunters we know to go clear them out." Sam paused, staring down at her for a moment, "My God, Claire, you're so lucky you didn't get yourself killed…"

"I know."

"I'm not sure that you do, but we'll work on that together, okay?"

Claire nodded again and he gave her shoulder a squeeze.

"I'm gonna go take a shower. Why don't you help Alex pack up after Dean's talked with her. We're driving her back to South Dakota tomorrow. When I come back, you and I are going to call Jody together."

Claire grimaced but agreed just the same. All in all, things could have gone a lot worse. She was going to have to stay on their good side for a while, or they might just decide to lock her up in one of their dungeons downstairs and throw away the key.

* * *

"I don't know, Madeline, all I can tell you is that something's not right." The woman tossed her long, sandy brown hair behind her, her face screwed up in concentration as the other woman looked on.

"But what does that mean?" Madeline asked, "I don't think you could be anymore vague if you tried."

The woman glared at her. "If I knew, I would say. I…I feel like Emma may still be alive."

"That's impossible, Lydia. We know that the Winchesters killed her. That's why we fled, remember, because we realized that they were on to us?"

"I know that, but I just….feel her." Lydia stood up from the table, addressing the other four woman who were still seated, "It's time to finish this like we should have years ago. No more running. We will seek out the Winchesters, find out what they know about Emma and then kill them."

"Where do we start?" said one of the others.

"I've been told that they're originally from Kansas," Lydia replied, a gleam in her eye, "We'll start there."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **A/N: Another long break between chapters, I know. Please read and review and thanks for sticking with me!**

"So that's when I took this guy, Klaus Von Douchebag's gun. First, I shot the goon stage right and then I clipped the goon stage left. After that, it was just me and Hitler. Couldn't believe it when he started to beg! I didn't even hesitate, I just took the butt and almost knocked his head clean off. One blow and he was out! Just like that! So, I was staring down at him and I knew we couldn't like, take him in to the cops or anything. I mean, you heard what he said about Twitter, right? So I pointed the gun at him, and it just came out. I was like, "Heil this!" and I just popped him right between the eyes!" Dean's face was bright with excitement as he recounted the story. "It was just amazing!"

The car was silent. Dean, who'd been expecting accolades and perhaps even calls for an encore, looked over at Sam who was resting his head back on the seat, eyes closed. The older Winchester frowned, glancing at the rear-view mirror only to see that Alex was slumped over asleep behind his brother, her head resting on the passenger window.

"She went out around the time you were waxing poetic about the combat advantages of grenade launchers," Sam said quietly, not opening his eyes, "Frankly, I envy her."

"Ha, ha," Dean muttered, rather annoyed. He'd thought this particular rendition had been one of his best.

All was quiet again for a few minutes, the faint sound of Black Sabbath's "Paranoid" playing in the background. Dean looked over at his brother and then again at Alex to make sure that she was really asleep.

"Dude?" he asked, trying to get Sam's attention.

"Yeah?"

"Did you hear what Emma called the bear?"

Sam opened his eyes, his brows furrowed as he sat up straighter and turned to look at his brother. "Yeah…..it could just be a coincidence. There's no reason to think that it's anything else."

Dean glanced incredulously at him, "Yeah, because _mere coincidences_ happen to us all the time."

"She could have heard us say the name before," Sam furrowed his brow, "What did Em say when you asked her?"

"I wasn't gonna bring it up just as we were about to leave with Alex. Besides, she was so happy that we were home…I just couldn't do it."

"We could get Claire to do a little investigating in the meantime. See if there's more to it?"

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna hold off on giving Claire any special assignments right now." Dean frowned in contemplation, "I know Em's just a little kid, but that's gonna change all too soon and I'm not sure I can hold off on talking about this with her anymore."

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing," Sam offered, causing Dean to look at him with raised eyebrows, "I can't even imagine what's been going on in her head. Maybe the transition from baby to toddler was easier for her, I don't know, but now, she's about six years old. Next time she could be ten or even twelve. Imagine how that's gonna go down? A preteen who doesn't understand what the hell is wrong with her and why her Dad refuses to explain it to her…"

"There's nothing wrong with her," Dean grumbled, glaring briefly at his brother.

"You know what I mean," Sam replied, "She knows she's different and her Dad and her uncle keep running off for days on end, to do a job we don't tell her about only to come home and not discuss the one thing I'm pretty sure she wants to discuss…"

"She's never even _hinted_ that she felt like that!" Dean raised his voice a few levels, causing both he and Sam to pause then check to see whether he'd woken up Alex.

Her breathing remained steady and even and she didn't so much as twitch. They waited for a few more minutes and then Sam said, "I actually think that's more worrying than if she'd been hounding you every day. Maybe she's afraid to…"

"My daughter's not afraid of me!"

"I didn't say that, Dean. Don't put words in my mouth. I just mean that she's a smart girl and a Winchester. If she's anything at all like you or me, she's been imagining the worst since you told her she'd have to wait 'til she was older to learn about her mother."

His brother didn't say anything, but Sam could tell that Dean was ruminating over his words.

"Has Claire ever said anything to you about Em asking questions?" Dean asked quietly, after a while.

Sam thought about it for a moment. "No, but I think we should ask her."

"Yeah, when we get to Jody's."

* * *

Claire was laying on her bed, reading the next Supernatural book, "Jus in Bello" to Emma. The little girl was happily tucked into her side, devouring one of the hazelnut praline truffles from a large box of Godiva chocolates- her reward for keeping Claire's secret. The two had been nesting for a while now- ever since the boys had left to take Alex back to South Dakota. After his shower earlier, Sam had met up with Claire in the Map Room to make their call to Jody. The Sheriff had been upset but not really surprised. As much as she liked to pretend otherwise, she, Claire and Alex had been having problems for some time and Jody knew that something would give eventually. She was grateful that Claire had, at least, had the wherewithal to seek out the Winchesters, rather than go it alone. Of course, she was also less than impressed with her charge's recent vampire encounter, and had given her a rather blistering lecture about the dangers of needlessly and recklessly endangering her life. Doing this via Facetime, Claire had blushed furiously under both Jody's glare and Sam's assessing gaze. She'd argued multiple times about her increasing age, but easily making her feel like a naughty five year old seemed to be a specialty of the 'adults' in her life. She hoped never to have to undergo this kind of collective tongue-lashing ever again as long as she lived. The embarrassment quotient escalated by fifty when a similarly chastened Alex had then entered, trailing behind Dean whose exceptionally stern visage had had Claire turning away to look anywhere but his eyes.

"Time to go," he'd said to Sam, though his whole focus was on Claire.

Jody had piped in with a greeting, diverting his attention temporarily, the two serving up even more ignominy as they openly discussed the girls' recent misdeeds. Jody had turned her Mom-voice onto Alex, promising dire consequences as soon as she was within city limits. Alex, even more subdued had agreed with everything Jody had said. After a few more choice words to both young women, Jody had signed off. Dean had let Claire and Sam know that he'd called on some hunter friends who were already on their way to Wyoming. With any luck, they'd be able to clean out the vampire nest before anyone else got hurt. With that bit of good news, the three had left the Bunker and Claire had headed back to the living quarters to calm down a little and to check on Emma. She and the youngest Winchester had spent the next hour or so catching up on their favourite past-time- reading the 'Winchester Chronicles' as Claire had dubbed the Supernatural books. Emma hugged Claire tighter when they got to the part where Dean got shot. Claire silently cursed herself. Before reading any of them to Emma, she usually did a quick skim of each book's synopsis on BeckyWinchester176's webpage (a site run by a fangirl who'd clearly been _majorly_ obsessed with the Winchesters, Sam especially, though it hadn't been updated in a few years). With all that'd been going on, it had completely slipped her mind and now she'd done something stupid yet again.

"Em, I'm sorry," she apologised, kissing the girl's hair.

"It's okay," Emma sniffed, rubbing her eyes, "I….I already know what happens. I…I read ahead when you were gone…"

"Hey!" Claire scolded mildly, wondering if part of this quick aging process included an inherent set of skills like reading and math, "We said we'd read them together, remember? Since when are you able to read them by yourself anyway?"

"Ummm…..since I was three.."

Well, that answered that question. "What's 789 plus 456?"

Emma thought about it for a moment and then said, "Twelve hundred and forty five."

Claire inhaled sharply. "Can you write me a few sentences on this notepad?"

She reached into her bedside table and took out the pad and a pen. Emma looked at her quizzically. "What do you want me to write?"

"Anything you want," Claire replied with a smile, not wanting Emma to feel like she was doing something strange or wrong.

Emma nodded matter-of-factly and started scribbling. Her hands were a bit shaky, and writing a bit clumsy- like she needed practice- but the actual sentence structure was pretty advanced: "My name is Emma Winchester and I love my family- My Dad, my Uncle Sam, my grandma Mary and Claire. I live in the Bunker. It's really old and really big and it has great hiding places and cool stuff to look at…."

"Wow, Em!" Claire was suitably impressed, "This is really good! We're gonna have to show this to your Dad when he gets back."

The little girl, who'd initially beamed with the praise, suddenly looked apprehensive at the mention of Dean.

"What's wrong?" Claire asked her voice filled with concern, "Your Dad's gonna be really proud of you, Emma."

"It's not that," she replied quietly, pausing before she said, "Claire? Remember those dreams? The ones in the woods and the ones of my Mom and Dad when I was a baby?"

"Yeah?" Claire wasn't sure she wanted to hear what Emma was going to say.

"I think I know what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"I think….I think I died, Claire!" The tears in Emma's eyes, as she looked up at Claire, made the older girl's heart break. "That place in the woods? It was a bad place… bad people…. _monsters_ go there when they die. Am…am I a monster, Claire?"

"What?" Claire lifted the child onto her lap and hugged her tightly, "No baby, you're not a monster, why would you say that?"

"Cause…..cause I remembered…when Uncle Sam took me into the kitchen for a snack before. I remembered being somewhere like that before but I was really old….like fifteen! I…I wanted to hurt Daddy…Uncle Sam…I think he kill..killed me. I don't understand, Claire, and I know Daddy knows but he won't tell me anything!"

Emma burst into full blown sobs and Claire realised she'd made yet another monumental mistake by not telling Dean about Emma's dreams earlier. She was at a loss as to what to do in the moment. Emma was going to be devastated when she learned the truth about her former life and that meant that _the boys_ really needed to be the ones having this conversation with her. She needed their reassurance and love to get through this. Claire stayed silent, just holding Emma and stalling for time until the child's weeping had calmed significantly. Then she pushed her back a little so she could mop up her face with a tissue and look at her when she said, "I'm really sorry, kiddo, I know you wanted me to keep your dreams a secret from your Dad, but I was wrong. If he'd known about them, I…I think he would have told you all about your Mom. No, no sweetheart, that's my fault, not yours, okay?" Emma had begun to get upset again at that last statement, "We're gonna fix this, I swear but I….I don't know much more than you do."

"R…really?" Emma seemed genuinely surprised and Claire had never felt so low. This little girl had already become like a sister to her, and Claire knew she would protect her even if it meant her own her life. That Emma had been thinking that all the adults around her had been lying to her about her very existence, made her heart break. Tears came to Claire's eyes and she fought to keep them at bay. It was true, she knew enough but not everything, and without the details Emma would likely demand, Claire would likely mess things up even more. Right now, she had to think of a suitable distraction otherwise this situation was going to go straight to Hell. It seemed like luck was not on her side though, because her phone vibrated and it was Dean. Claire closed her eyes, shaking her head. Yeah, of course it was. Emma hadn't seemed to notice the name on the screen and Claire quickly excused herself for a moment to go talk in the hallway.

"Hi," she answered, moving swiftly away from the door, "Where are you now?"

"Hey Claire," Dean's rigid tone was upsetting to Claire but she tamped down the feeling of rejection that elicited because she had to focus on Emma now, "We're just walking into Jody's right now. How is everything?"

"Ummm…fine," she replied, not able to believe that she was being put in this position again so soon, "Em and I were just reading together and …" Claire paused uncertainly. She would have much rather had this conversation face to face, but she also didn't want to lie and betray Dean's trust again. She was about to come clean when she he heard shouting in the background.

"Uh, Claire?" Dean said, clearly distracted by whatever was going on, "Lemme call you back."

He hung up before she could reply and Claire didn't know whether to be relieved or not. She looked back at her room and sighed heavily. She really hoped the boys would be heading back to the Bunker soon, even though she had a feeling that the imminent conversation, was going to be a disaster.

* * *

"Woah, woah, woah!" Sam shouted, trying to break them up, "Come on, let's all just calm down…"

"Oh, I'm calm," Jody replied in a tone that was anything but, "I just can't believe she did this. Lying to me and to Sam and Dean...what were you thinking?"

Alex, who'd been rather muted since being caught, had suddenly found her voice once confronted in person by her adoptive mother.

"Look, I'm not apologising anymore for doing Claire a favour. Was it smart? Of course not! But I did it, I regret it and I'm sorry. I don't know what more you want from me…..Dean's already ripped me a new…"

"Yeah, okay, I get the picture," Jody held up her hand, "But if you think for one minute that _sorries_ are going to be enough for this, then we've got a bigger problem, young lady!"

"What…what do you want me to say?"

"There's nothing _to_ say, Alex," Jody sighed, her voice significantly quieter, "But there _are_ going to be consequences, like I said. You don't start your Nursing course for at least another couple of months. In the meantime, you're gonna find yourself a job and when you're not working, you're gonna be doin' a whole lotta volunteering for the town council- helpin' 'em clean up the park, doin' deliveries for 'Meals-on-Wheels' and anything else I can find for you to fill your days. When you're not working or being a civic-minded paragon of virtue, you're gonna be home. Really soon, you're going to be out on your own, playing adult for real. If you haven't figured out how to do that yet, I guess I'm gonna have to help you while you still live under my roof and care what I think….."

"Should we be taking notes?" Dean muttered to Sam who was staring at the exchange in fascination.

"…so after you've gotten yourself unpacked and I order us some pizzas, you're gonna update your resumé and hit the classifieds. Am I understood?"

Alex nodded and quickly excused herself to her room. The other three watched her leave before Dean turned to Jody and said, "Teach me how to do that!"

Jody cocked her head to the side and treated him to a rather sarcastic glare.

"What?" Dean asked in bemusement.

"I just can't imagine you having that kind of conversation with Claire," Jody said shaking her head, knowing that she was about to unleash some simple truths on Dean that he wouldn't like, "I'm sorry, Dean, but you're a bit of a push over where she's concerned and I don't think that would've changed much since she's been living with you…"

"Uh, no! Are you kidding me?" Dean held up his hand, shaking his head, "You're so wrong. I'm like granite. She doesn't get anything past me. I…"

"Dean," Jody replied, placatingly, "You two are practically the same person so she knows how to get around you. Claire knows that, Sam knows that, _everyone_ knows that. When _you_ finally realise that, you won't need any tips from me…"

"Sam told you about her little trip to Wyoming, right?" He looked over at his brother who nodded, "Well for that lapse in judgement, we pretty much did the same thing you did with Alex. She's grounded too…maybe indefinitely…"

"And what exactly does that mean?"

"I don't understand the question?" Dean was almost petulant in his defensiveness, and Sam slapped his arm to call him on it.

"You grounded her but what does that _actually_ mean for her? Look, Claire ran away from home to learn to become a hunter. You've accepted her with open arms, for which we're both grateful, but right now, she's living in your Bunker, completely immersed in the everything she believes gives her life meaning and purpose. From what I understand, she's only been babysitting, right? Sam says you boys have been training her but she hasn't gone out on a job since she's been there. So how is grounding her any different to what she's been doing every day for weeks?"

Dean and Sam looked at each other for a moment and then back at Jody.

"So what do we do?" Sam asked, as she moved to pick up her cell.

"Now, _I_ call for pizza." Jody winked at him, as Dean narrowed his eyes at her and said, "Thanks a lot."

"I have faith that you guys are gonna be able to work this out. Claire's made it pretty obvious that she needs space and so that's what I'm going to give her…."

"Jody," Sam began, feeling like a complete idiot. He'd never really stopped to think about how all of this would be affecting her, "I'm so sorry. We didn't even consider how…."

"Sam, it's okay," Jody put a hand on his arm and smiled warmly though her eyes held a hint of sadness, "She's been unhappy for a while, I know that, and nothing I did was getting through to her. With you and Dean, she feels safe and loved, and that's all I've ever wanted for her."

Sam put his hand over Jody's but it was Dean that pulled her into a hug.

"Thanks, Jody," he said, giving her a tight squeeze before letting her go, "We're gonna take good care of her."

"I know you will, _Dad_ ," Jody said, slapping Dean lightly on the back of the head, "Why is it that I'm only learning about Emma now? You can't pick up a phone and say, "Hey Jody, it's a girl?"

"I'm sorry about that," Dean muttered, sincerely, "I thought Claire told you about her and, well, I'm an ass…"

"Yes you are," she said with a grin, "But we love you anyway."

"As long as we're coming clean," Dean's face suddenly lit up, "Since we last saw you, well, not only did I become a Dad, but…..," he paused dramatically, "…..I killed Hitler!"

"Oh my God," Sam muttered, rolling his eyes and heading to sit on the couch.

Jody cocked her head in confusion, "Thank…you?"

"You're welcome!" Dean grinned and then pointed to her phone, "Let's get this pizza party started! Imma gonna need two extra-large sausage and pepperonis with extra sausage, extra pepperoni and extra oni…"

"No extra onions!" Sam piped in, his bitchface firmly in place, "I'm already gonna have to die a thousand deaths listening to you tell Jody and Alex about Hitler. Your intestinal tract and onions? That's just gonna be overkill. No. Extra. Onions!"

Dean beamed at his brother, "Don't wad your panties, Sammy." To Jody, he said, "You heard Samantha, hold the extra onions!"

The sheriff shook her head in amusement. The boys were so much like Alex and Claire though she wouldn't say that out loud. She didn't think pointing out just how similar their temperaments and personalities were to that of teenaged girls would go down too well.

* * *

Alex, the Winchesters and Jody were all sitting in front of the television in rapt attention while Scarlet O'Hara and Rhett Butler bickered on the screen.

"You know, I don't think I've ever sat through all of 'Gone with the Wind' before," Dean said, taking a huge bite out of his third slice of pizza, "Vivienne Leigh…..amirite?"

Dean waggled his eyebrows suggestively and received a throw pillow to the face for his trouble.

"Don't taint the memory of my favourite movie!" Jody narrowed her eyes at him, "Keep it clean!"

"Your favourite m….Jody, I'm surprised at you!" Dean was incredulous, "You're– you're a badass sheriff chick. You're not a lovey-dovey romance chick…. Wait, are you?"

"I like what I like, Winchester," Jody answered simply, sipping her red wine, "What's your deal?"

"He's more of a, uh, animated Japanese erotica chick," Sam answered immediately, with a laugh.

"Really?" Jody leaned forward, curiously.

Dean and Alex both sported similar looks of discomfort on their faces.

"T.M.I., guys, like way, way too much!" Alex made a gagging motion while Dean turned to glare at his highly amused brother.

Dean was about to defend himself when Jody's cell rang. She excused herself from what she called, "this scintillating conversation" to answer it. When she returned, visibly shaken, the brothers were sniping at each other and Alex was ignoring them, continuing to watch the movie.

Sam was the first to notice the Sheriff's change in demeanour. "Jody? Are you all right?"

Dean twisted his body around to look at her. "What is it?"

"A friend of mine, Asa Fox… he died. I….I have to go." Jody spun around suddenly, moving quickly to her bedroom closet where she pulled out a suitcase and immediately began throwing clothes into it.

"Go where?" Dean asked, he, Sam and Alex having followed her to see what she was doing.

"To the wake. It's…it's tonight. If I leave now…..they're giving him a hunter's funeral tomorrow." Jody quickly wiped tears from her cheeks as she threw a few cosmetics into a case.

"That's why the name was so familiar. Isn't he the guy that supposedly killed five wendigos in one night?" Sam asked, taking the now packed suitcase from Jody.

"And that entire den of werewolves in Atlanta in '09?" Dean asked, his brows furrowed as he tried to recall the details. "How did you know him?"

"Was he the one pretending to be an F.B.I. Agent?" Alex muttered, her eyes narrowed as she tried to recall the man, "I remember you helped him with a pack of ghouls…..and then you went out with him…."

"He was a good man."

"We're coming with you," Dean announced with finality, looking over at Sam who nodded in agreement.

"You don't have to," Jody shook her head, though she appeared grateful.

"Yeah we do. You're family and we want to be there for you," Sam interjected, placing the suitcase on the floor and holding her by the shoulders, "Besides, you can never be too careful. Hunter gatherings are sometimes more dangerous than going out to fight monsters- a bunch of drunken braggarts, trying to one up each other while they reminisce about the good old days. They're just as likely to kill each other by the end of it."

"Fine, thank you," she capitulated, as Sam gave her a squeeze and let her go, "Alex? We're only gonna be a day or two at the most. Do you think you can keep out of trouble until then or do I need to get you a babysitter?"

"Jody!" Alex exclaimed, simultaneously embarrassed and insulted.

"Good. I'll expect you to do everything we talked about- grounded, volunteering, job."

Alex nodded, Jody giving her a single nod in return.

"So, where are we heading?" Dean asked, as they all made their way back to the living room.

"Emerson, Manitoba."

* * *

"You said you were coming right back, Daddy!" Emma whined unhappily, "You promised!"

"Sweetheart," Dean murmured regretfully, "A friend, from, uh, work died and he was a good friend of Claire's mom, Jody. We're gonna go with her to the funeral and then we'll be back late tomorrow, okay? We won't stay any longer than we have to, I promise….."

"Yeah, but you already promised you'd be back….!"

"I'm sorry, baby, it's an emergency…."

"You're a liar!" Emma screamed, starting to cry, "You're nothing but a freakin,' nasty, mean…!"

Dean was so stunned that he was rendered temporarily speechless. Emma had never been anything but a sweet, loving little girl who idolised him. Clearly, the honeymoon was over. Apparently, his fast-growing Amazonian daughter was completely capable of acting her current age. While he understood her disappointment, he had no intention of letting her get away with name calling or swearing- something he was going to have to watch around her from now on.

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, young lady!" Dean's voice dropped two octaves, and took on the sternest tone he'd ever used on her, "You _do not_ talk to me or anyone else like that, do you hear me?"

The little girl didn't say anything but he could hear her breath hitching. In truth, Emma had found herself experiencing an unfamiliar mix of self-righteous anger and fear- not only of her own explosive reaction, but also of her father's reprimand. He'd never, ever spoken to her like that before and she really didn't like it.

"Answer me, Emma!" Dean's heart was breaking knowing that he was making her cry. He looked over at Sam who was staring at him with raised eyebrows. He shook his head and waited.

"Yes, Daddy." He heard her reply quietly after a few moments, and he almost breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's a bit early, but I think you need to go get ready for bed, Babygirl, so say goodnight to me and your Uncle Sammy and then put Claire on the phone, okay?"

Dean waited patiently for a response, though all he could hear was sniffles as Emma seemed to contemplate her answer. He heard Claire in the background, gently chiding the girl to speak. As the increasingly tense silence wore on, he could almost feel the change in her over the line- from repentance to nuclear explosion.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO! I hate you!"

There was a loud bang in his ear, Emma obviously having dropped the phone. The next sound he heard was someone picking it up. It was Claire.

"Dean?" she said, her voice sympathetic, "I'm so sorry. She just ran back to her room…"

"It's…it's okay," Dean replied shakily, "I know she doesn't mean it."

Of course, Dean wanted to believe that. If she'd been _fully_ human, he would've considered this just the 'start of the 'tude'- his nickname for Sam's angsty preteen/ teen years where his little brother had become sullen and mouthy nearly 24/7. Being part Amazon and pre-destined to kill her own father though, well, Dean didn't even want to consider what that part of her was thinking right now.

"When you called about the wake, she insisted on talking to you. I didn't know she was going to say any of that…" Claire was frantically apologetic, especially since she knew why Emma was really so upset.

"It's fine, Claire, she's right. I _am_ always somewhere else every time she needs me. Hard to hide that when your kid keeps getting older every time you're gone…"

"Dean," Claire said again, "We need to talk about a few things when you get back. I… I might know a bit about where this is coming from…."

Dean didn't answer for a minute, a raft of emotions washing over him though apprehension was foremost among them. The ominous tone in Claire's voice made him feel like everything that Sam had warned him about earlier was coming to pass. The thought that he might be losing his daughter before they'd even really had a chance to know each other, terrified him more than Azazel, more than The Darkness and more than Lucifer ever had. He looked over at Sam's concerned face and said, "That sounds like a good idea, kid. I want her to go to bed early tonight. Dinner and then bed, all right?"

"Yeah, all right."

"Kiss her goodnight for me. I'll text you when we're on the way back."

"Bye Dean."

"Bye Claire."

"What happened?" His brother asked immediately, both he and Jody anxious to hear what had gone wrong.

"My kid's growing up," he replied simply, starting the Impala, "I'm gonna have to do something about that."

* * *

"Remember what I told you about Hunter gatherings?" Dean asked flatly, reloading his Glock.

"No one likes a know-it-all, Dean," Jody whispered, raising her own gun as the two slowly rounded the corner, entering the dark room.

"I know, but it just sucks being right all the time."

* * *

This whole affair had been one big train-wreck. After the phone call with Emma, they'd driven the five hours or so up to Manitoba, arriving in the early evening. It was still bright outside, the long days of summer still upon them, though the air had taken on a distinct chill over the past few weeks. It wouldn't have been obvious to most, but Sam could see that Dean was upset about whatever Emma had said to him. Sure, he'd been interactive the whole way, but during lulls in conversation, Dean's subtly clenched jaw and white knuckled grip on the steering wheel, told a different story. Given his older brother's stubbornness, he'd decided to wait for a better time to prod the details out of him. This trip was about Jody. Dean's cryptic statement about Emma would have to wait.

They'd been at the wake for almost three hours, spending most of their time drinking beer and conversing with other hunters, most of whom they knew only by reputation. Several awkward conversations later, with everyone a lot drunker and the time getting later, the party started to break up and many people started to leave. The remaining mourners had gathered in the living room, Asa's body lying in his casket there for all to see, with a number of his treasured items on display around him- his angel blade, a bottle of his favourite imported beer, and an archaic looking crucifix, among them.

They sat around in small groups, drinking and talking about the super-hunter that was Asa. Tales of his bravery against some of the deadliest Supernatural creatures, was legend in the Hunter community. There was no shortage of rumours, facts and blatant exaggerations that mixed together that evening to provide an entertaining session of story-telling for those gathered.

Sam had also spent some time getting to know more about the fascinating childhood of a brother and sister hunting team, Max and Alicia, whose mother, a natural born witch, had helped them hone their own supernatural abilities. He'd just started sharing a few of the details of his own peculiar life story, when the room suddenly went quiet. The shock of looking up to see his mother standing in the doorway literally took his breath away. He quickly looked over to see Dean's hard stare directed at her from where he stood talking to Jody across the room. When they began making their way over to Mary, Sam excused himself quickly to join them out in the hallway.

Dean never diverted his gaze, even when he took a moment to introduce the stunned Jody. The anger was practically radiating off him as he listened to the two women exchanging somewhat strained pleasantries. Sensing the obvious tension in the air, Jody excused herself leaving the Winchesters to stare at each other.

"Mom," Sam greeted cautiously, attempting to break the stalemate.

"Sam," she acknowledged softly, looking over at Dean again. She opened her mouth to speak to him but he beat her to it.

"What are you doing here, Mary?" Dean crossed his arms, continuing to glare at her.

"Asa….he was a friend. I, uh, met him when he was very young. I saw an article about his death and I…"

"So you drove all the way to Canada to some dead guy's funeral, but your _son_ leaves you multiple voicemails and texts, and you find it way too difficult to let him that you're all right?"

Apparently, Mary had lost one of her sons. In that single statement, Dean was making it clear that he'd essentially disowned her. Sam cursed under his breath, knowing that this was going to be ugly.

"My _son?_ " Mary muttered, now returning his glare, "Well, Dean, I thought you and Sam would've gotten a full report on my whereabouts by now. Tell me, how is Claire?"

Dean smiled grimly. "Claire's a good kid who sometimes does misguided things for _family_. I think I'm going to head out to get some air."

Dean turned to head through the front door but stopped just before opening it. "You know, Dad did the same thing once. Went M.I.A. for weeks, no phone call or text to let anyone know he was alive. Then he popped up out of the blue because he read about this guy named Elkins' death and rushed right on up to Colorado." Dean turned around, his eyes blazing. "Sam and I've already had to play that game, a lifetime ago. The hunt…doesn't justify… _everything_! Just look around! We're here in a stranger's house, with a bunch of people making believe that these are the days of their lives, when really, we're all just gettin' a sneak peak of _exactly_ what our future holds…." Dean paused, his emotions almost getting the better of him before he visibly calmed. "Why is it so hard for you to understand why I'd want something different for my daughter?"

He left after that, Sam and Mary staring after him.

* * *

"You okay?" Jody asked, her face filled with concern.

After about thirty minutes, during which he'd sat in the Impala plowing through a six-pack, Dean had come back inside to find Jody waiting for him.

"Yeah," he replied, listlessly, "Family drama is just my jam."

"Really? Let's recap. After that rather interesting phone call with your _new, old_ daughter, you spent the _entire_ ride up here telling me in _extremely, excruciating_ detail about how you killed Hitler. Somehow though, you neglected to mention the fact that your mom was back from the dead?"

"Yeah. My reward for being a good human. Trust me, it hasn't been all sunshine and roses."

"Uh huh, I got that impression. Dean, this really isn't my place, I know that, but you and Sam have been through some really amazing stuff the past few months- even for you guys, but if I could have my family back? I mean _really_ back? I would give anything, absolutely anything, to have that."

Dean sighed deeply, "And I agree with you. That's what I felt when she first came back, you know? What a gift, right?"

Jody nodded, reassuringly.

"I've spent the last thirty years remembering my mother through the eyes of a four-year-old kid who thought the sun rose and set around her. I've seen and lived through a lot since then so I don't wear rose coloured glasses anymore. No time's passed for her, but she's not the same….I don't know _who_ she is, Jody, but I know she's a threat to my child."

Jody didn't say anything, she just pulled Dean to her and hugged him tightly. Neither of them saw Mary standing at the top of the stairs, watching them. She'd taken every painful word in her stride; she and Dean's respective positions on 'Emma' weren't in dispute, after all. But watching this 'Jody woman', hugging and comforting her son, she couldn't deny feeling an even deeper sense of loss. It may have been irrational, but she'd thought… she'd hoped, that eventually, they'd be able to work this out. Her sons would remember their training and surely come to their senses once they gained some perspective.

Even as a kid, Dean had been the poster child for Winchester stubbornness. He'd always been her beautiful little helper, watching out for his baby brother without even being asked. When he himself had gotten hurt, or scared, or in trouble, he tried to remain stoic- 'Daddy's brave little man' who didn't cry and didn't talk about his feelings- just like his father. In the time that she'd been back, it seemed to her that his protectiveness and willingness to self-sacrifice had only increased. That this Sheriff was able to get him to express his emotions so openly, without a precipitating argument or the need to hold him at gunpoint, was not only miraculous but highlighted clearly that her son didn't need her. In fact, if there had ever been any doubt, there certainly wasn't any now- Dean had all but written her off and Sam, well, he would stick by his brother. Why would they need her anyway, when they'd found themselves a substitute? Fine, she would do what she had to do for them whether they liked it or not. She continued quietly down the staircase and made her way to the kitchen.

She moved quickly to the fridge, grabbing a beer and chugging almost half of it before the door had even closed. She took a deep breath, resting on the counter and surveying the room. It was as outdated as the rest of the house, even by 'I've been dead for three decades' standards, but no less warm and inviting. It brought back memories of the house in Lawrence, making Dean PB & J sandwiches and having to clean up baby Sammy who usually wore more of his mushy peas than he took in. The sweetness of the memory just made her feel worse and she found herself knocking back the rest of the beer. She reached into the fridge for another one, opening it and taking another sip, her mind drifting through thoughts of the past. When she went to drink again, missing her mouth by a mile and spilling some of the beer on her shirt, she paused and looked at the bottle with disgust. She slammed it down, resting her palms on the counter and taking several deep breaths. She needed to get a hold of herself. She grabbed a glass, filling it with water from the tap and drank it greedily. Clearly, she hadn't brought her old tolerance for alcohol with her from the afterlife. Of all the missteps she was likely to make tonight, she really didn't want to get hammered in front of her boys and…Jody. She started when she heard a knock at the kitchen door. She put the glass down and walked over, opening it to find a young man standing there with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"Hi!" he said sombrely, "I was a friend of Asa's. Am I too late?"

"No, not at all," Mary replied, smiling at him as he looked at her with interest, "Come on in."

"Do I know you?" he asked, curiously, "I don't think I've ever seen you around here before. I'm Jael."

"Mary. Mary Winchester." she said, reaching out to give him a firm handshake. He seemed somewhat startled at first and then he smiled broadly.

* * *

Sam, Jody and Dean were sitting on the couch in the living room again, the boys only half-listening to a hunter named Olivia describe the time that Asa had saved her from a pair of Vetala. Dean was scowling slightly, drinking his beer and not making eye contact with anyone while Sam was checking a text from Claire, which was essentially a list of groceries to pick up on the way back. The Sheriff was reminiscing with the rest of the group.

It startled everyone, then, when they suddenly heard the sound of what was obviously a loud argument coming from the kitchen. Lorraine, Asa's mother, could be heard shouting at Mary, explicitly blaming her for her son's death. Having been saved from a werewolf as a child by Mary, Asa had become obsessed with the Supernatural and hunting. In fact, it had consumed his whole life. Now he was dead with nothing to show for it- no wife, and no kids. Nothing save a number of useless hunting artefacts that his mother planned to burn with his body the next day. Dean shared a look with Jody, Lorraine's eerily poignant sentiments reigniting the anger that the talk with the Sheriff had _just_ managed to corral. They didn't hear Mary's reply- instead they heard a scream and the sound of pots and pans crashing to the floor. Almost as one, the eight or so remaining hunters, including Dean, Sam and Jody, rushed to the kitchen. They found Lorraine on the floor dead, blood seeping from her body and the cookware strewn all over, as if she'd knocked them down when she fell. Mary stared at the others, blood splattered all over her clothes and a bloody paring knife in her hand.

"Jesus Christ!" yelled one of the throng named Randy, some others gasping and drawing their guns.

"Mom?" Sam asked uncertainly, his eyes wide with shock, "What happened?"

"She attacked me!" Mary cried, dropping the knife and holding up her hands in surrender, "I didn't have a choice, I swear!"

"Lorraine wouldn't do that!" another one named Bucky, shouted, "What the hell did you do?"

"She came at _me_!" Mary tried again, her eyes wildly searching for Dean and Sam. Her younger son had stepped forward offering himself up as a shield against the other hunters' likely itchy trigger fingers. Each of them had expressions of anger or scepticism on their faces and Sam wasn't sure talking was going to be enough.

"You're a liar!" another hunter shouted from the back and more than one gun cocked.  
Dean stepped forward and turned to face them, holding up his hands in supplication also. "Everybody just hold on, okay? Let's not do anything stupid. Mary says…"

"Isn't she your mother?" Bucky sneered, "Somehow I don't trust you to be impartial enough to lead this murder investigation, Sherlock!"

"We aren't gonna be shooting first and asking questions later!" Dean countered, glowering at the man.

"Who are you kidding, Winchester?" Another named Elvis, asked, "Isn't that your goddamned M.O.?"

Jody recognised that they were losing the room, and stepped forward herself. "Look, I'm a police officer," she said, pulling out her badge and quickly putting it away, "Everyone stand down!"

"Do you want me to pull out my fake I.D.s too?" Max asked, with an incredulous chuckle, "'Cause I got at least five from different law enforcement agencies on me right now!"

"Max, right?" Mary asked, a strange smile on her face, "He was really proud of you. Liked to watch you and your sister sometimes. Never got close though, did he, your Dad?"

"What are you talking about?" Alicia asked, "Our father died when we were babies…"

"Is that what your Mom told you? Well, she was a lying bitch…..!"

"Woah, woah!" Sam pulled out his gun, and pointed it towards the twins who had started forward, in all likelihood about to attack Mary, "Step back!"

"My God, you're stupid!" Mary jeered, a scornful look on her face, "Asa Fox? You know, the dead guy in the other room? He's your Momma's baby Daddy, kids!"

"Mar..Mom? What are you doing?" Dean turned quickly to face her. He peered at her closely for a moment before his eyes widened in understanding.

"That's right, Winchester," she said, a seemingly genuine smile now forming on her face, "Mommy's….not…..Mommy!"

Alicia and Sam gasped as Mary began cackling, her eyes turning red. With a wave of her arm, all of them were sent flying through the air out the door. By the time Sam and Dean had managed to get to their feet, she was gone.

* * *

That was how Dean and Jody now found themselves paired up, guns drawn, searching the house for his 'mother'. Everyone had split into two-man teams and were systematically making their way through each room. He and the Sheriff had already been through two of the bedrooms upstairs, and had just entered Asa's childhood room when the door slam closed behind them and the lights flicked on. Dean was thrown backward, crashing through the closet door. He dropped like a stone to the ground where he remained pinned, the breath knocked clean out of him. He turned his head, realising that he wasn't alone. Indeed, the body of a young man lay there, a bouquet of flowers strewn carelessly over him.

"Don't worry about him," 'Mary's' voice cut through his bewilderment, "I upgraded to a better model."

The cross-roads demon possessing his mother, had knocked the gun from Jody's hand and was currently holding her about the neck.

"You know, I really didn't plan on coming to this little party, but I couldn't help myself," 'she' said casually, picking up the flailing Jody and watching her struggle to breathe, "Asa's ten years were up, so he had to pay the piper. 'Mary's little fanboy' realised at an early age that he was pathetic at pretty much _everything_ hunting-related. Don't know how he didn't get himself killed his first week out. Through pure dumb luck, he ended up tracking down and killing a skinwalker. Poor bastard thought he'd finally proven he wasn't the waste of space he was. Unfortunately, Daddy skinwalker didn't take too kindly to his kin being murdered so he decided to exact his revenge on Asa's Bobbsey twins. Well, Asa figured selling his soul for ten years in exchange for becoming some kind of Uber-hunter meant he'd be able to keep his little bastards safe. How the hell do you think he managed to kill five wendigos by himself all in one night?"

"And so what?" Dean asked, derision in his tone, "You're such an honourable businessman that you figured you'd toast your former client one last time?"

"Oh, yeah, totally," the demon answered sarcastically, "I mean, who doesn't like free booze? Hunter gatherings are like an alcoholic's wet dream, right? But I must confess, I was curious about Asa's spawn, you know? See what all the fuss was about?"

"And you had to use my mother to do it?" Dean struggled to get loose, his eyes plastered to Jody, who was now clawing at her neck, her lips beginning to turn blue.

"Hey man, I'm as shocked as you are!" 'she' said with seemingly genuine amazement, "I'd heard the rumours, but to actually meet _the_ Mary Winchester? Back from the dead? It's like meeting one of the Beetles, but I digress. Lorraine Fox got in my face- I just wanted to shut her up. I didn't really _plan_ on killing anyone, but I _am_ a demon, chances are someone else was gonna end up six feet under. Call it an impulse control problem but there were so many of you in one place and I like to have fun so…."

"…Let Jody go! You got to play, now just get outta here!" Dean was starting to feel desperate. This exchange felt like twenty years had already passed, even though it was really less than a couple of minutes. Jody's eyes were drifting closed. "Let her go and take me instead! I won't fight you!"

"I did poor Lorraine a favour, anyway…." 'Mary' continued as if Dean hadn't been pleading for Jody's life," She was _so_ distraught over that idiot's death. Now she can go join him in hell." The demon whispered conspiratorially, "Lorraine was no saint."

"Put her down!" Sam's loud voice suddenly rang out, he and Bucky standing in the now open doorway with guns drawn.

'Mary' cackled gleefully, hurling Bucky out through the door. To Sam 'she' tsked, shaking 'her' head regretfully. "Sam Winchester, you had such potential. Given the great gift, only to squander it. You could have been so much more…."

"I won't tell you again!" Sam was somewhat frantic, as Jody had gone limp.

"What do you think those bullets are going to do ….other than kill your Mommy, that is…."

"Shoot, Sam!" Dean shouted, struggling to get free from the floor, "Jody's dying, man, shoot her!"

"You'll kill your, Mommy, Sammy. Is that really what you want? To sacrifice your long revered, newly resurrected mother for this….interloper? That's what dear Mary calls her, anyway. Poor, poor Mary. Her own sons would _kill_ her to save some _wannabe_. No wonder she feels like…"

"Shut up!" Dean shouted, startling Sam who looked over at him, "Sam, do it!"

"Oh please!" 'Mary' laughed, "Like I believe that you'll…"

Sam fired the salt round into the shoulder the demon was using to hold Jody. It screamed, dropping her immediately. With its attention broken, Dean was suddenly freed and he rushed to Jody's side, beginning to recite the exorcism rite as he leapt towards her. The demon, practically snarling with anger, only managed to push him back a few feet as it was clearly seriously injured now. The gunshot brought the rest of the hunters running to the room and between all of them, they were able to complete the entire ritual, despite all the demon's attempts to fight back. It flew out of Mary's mouth, leaving her body to slump to the floor.

"Mom!" Sam shouted, rushing to her, "I'm so sorry. I just needed it to stop…."

"It's, uh, okay, Sam," Mary replied, unconvincingly, I'm okay."

She looked over to see Dean staring at her, his eyes virtually emotionless, as Jody lay cradled carefully in his arms. The Sheriff had come to and was breathing easier now, despite the heavy bruising around her neck and hoarse voice. When the twins kneeled down, offering to use their magic to try to heal her, Dean turned his attention away to stroke the woman's sweaty brow and to murmur reassurances as she cried out in pain during their spell. Ten minutes later, when Max and Alicia had completed their work successfully, they turned to Mary. The Winchester matriarch couldn't help but feel some resentment when Sam left her side almost immediately to assure himself that Jody was okay. She pointedly focused on herself then as, aided by some quick and dirty field surgery by Bucky, the twins made a good start with healing her shoulder (though she'd have to leave it in a sling for at least a week). After that, Mary hadn't stuck around long, citing a desire to go clean-up for the upcoming ceremony. She needn't have bothered. Both her boys were too busy helping the Sheriff to her feet. Mary hightailed it out of there and didn't look back.

* * *

Around dawn, the hunters said their final goodbyes to both Asa and his mother, salting and burning their bodies in a traditional hunter's funeral. Dean took the twins aside afterwards to tell them what the demon had shared about their family history. They were completely astounded. Their mother had always led them to believe that their father had died soon after they were born and that he'd had no family. They left, with thanks to him and plans to confront her.

Soon, all the other hunters, save the Winchesters and Jody, had departed. Mary had found the whole thing incredibly painful. Not only had she been indirectly responsible for both Asa and Lorraine's deaths, but she could have easily hurt her boys next, and all because she'd been a little drunk and emotionally vulnerable. Like a rookie, she'd let a demon stroll right on in and take over her body. She'd helplessly been aware of it using her to stash its discarded meatsuit in Asa's room, and to then gleefully go exploring. Jael had been almost euphoric getting to walk and talk freely with the other hunters, putting them at ease and gaining their trust. He'd given the Winchesters a wide berth, though, in case they got suspicious. After a good half hour of reminiscing about Asa, he'd left the group to go grab a beer for himself and Bucky when Lorraine had followed 'Mary' into the kitchen, intending on fulfilling a previously unattainable, life-long desire to confront the hunter. The demon had killed the older woman on a whim, taking great pleasure in taunting Mary about it and sharing sordid details about its plans to use her to slaughter the rest of the gathered hunters, her sons included. Not being in control of herself and potentially harming Sam and Dean, had absolutely terrified her, and she thanked God that her boys had stopped Jael. Seeing them in front of her now, safe and _alive,_ she'd gone ahead and apologised to them- the sheriff too. To her surprise, Sam had hugged her, telling her that she couldn't blame herself and that he was sorry that he'd shot her. She forgave him easily, revelling in the embrace because she had a feeling they were going to become few and far between.

Jody was merely polite when Mary apologised to her next, going off to wait in the Impala so the boys could finish saying their goodbyes. She was wary of the woman to say the least; the demon had whispered in her mind about every angry, murderous thought that Mary had ever had for those she'd perceived as enemies, and then had proceeded to share the details of every subsequent act of revenge. Her ruthlessness as a hunter had been legendary but it was unlikely her sons would ever learn that truth- given that everyone who would've known about Mary's past deeds was dead. Jody thought that sharing such information with the boys was likely to just add more fuel to an already out of control fire, so she decided to keep it to herself- for now.

Dean was gruff as he made small talk with his mother about everything other than the events of the past twelve hours. It was pretty hard to have a friendly conversation with your mother after you'd ordered your brother to shoot her. Of course, he'd known that Sam would do just enough to get Jody free and to buy them enough time for the other hunters to show up. It had worked. Mary, however, had probably not been so sure, and the subtle look of betrayal in her eyes as she watched Jody's hand brushing Dean's shoulder as she walked back to the car, only confirmed that. Yet Dean couldn't bring himself to apologise even though he knew he should. Sam nodded at him, hoping to encourage him to do just that. Dean narrowed his eyes in mild annoyance, ignoring the silent prodding. When neither of them could think of anything more to say, Dean took the initiative and stepped forward to hug Mary goodbye. His mother was initially surprised when she felt how tightly he hugged her, but then, she realised what he was doing; he was saying goodbye. Mary remained stoic when they pulled apart. Dean told her to take care of herself and to let them know where she got to from time to time before he walked away.

Sam grit his teeth and hugged his mother again, whispering to her that he loved her and that she needed to keep in touch. He kissed her cheek and then followed his brother to the Impala.

Mary watched them drive away, feeling a sudden presence behind her. She spun around to see the reaper, Billie, standing behind her casually leaning on her car with a smug expression on her face.

"Well, that was really something, huh?" she said, her voice filled with exaggerated wonder, "You gotta hand it to those Winchester boys. When the going gets tough, they'll do anything to save the people they love…"

"What do you want?" Mary asked, tiredly. She'd been shot, needed a shower and she wanted to get the hell out of Manitoba. Having some verbal sparring session with this creature was definitely _not_ something she needed to do right now.

"Same as before, really," Billie said, moving away from the car and practically sashaying to stand in front of her, "Offering you the chance to do the right thing. Let me take you home. You know you don't belong in this world. Your sons certainly know it. Sure, they didn't kill you, but Dean didn't even hesitate, right? Just told Sam to shoot you to save that woman. I guess that's not so surprising, though, they've done just fine without you for decades, right? Even found themselves the perfect substitute. They don't need you. _No one_ needs you!"

"Wow, you're one hell of a voyeur, aren't you?" Mary sneered, not wanting to show the reaper that the words were hitting home, "Is that how you spend your days? Spying on the living because you'll never know what it's like to have a soul or a family of your own. It's a little pathetic really."

"Amara thought she was giving your son a gift," Billie chuckled, ignoring Mary's jibe, "What a burden you are! " _Gotta love her, cause she's my mother, but she's just like her sociopathic father- looks at my baby and only sees a monster she wants to put down_ "…. I mean, I never thought I'd see the day when the Winchester brothers would give up on family like this again, but can you blame them?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Sure I do," Billie replied, drawing closer to Mary as she tried to press her advantage, "I like to watch, remember? Look Mary, you tried, but you've made a mess of things. Let me ease your pain. You can be with John, and you can see your parents again…all you have to do is say yes. I can take you to them. You don't have to…."

Billie didn't even see it coming. Asa Fox's angel blade plunging directly into the middle of her chest and the look of pure hatred on Mary Winchester's face.

"You know what?" she spat, watching the bright light emanating from Billie's chest with satisfaction, "You talk too much…..!"

Billie's body dropped to the ground and Mary cocked her head to the side as she stared down at her, "…and I've got plans to make."

Mary stepped over the reaper and got into her car. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts list.

"Tell her I'm ready to talk but I've got conditions- non-negotiable…..No, I'll come to you. If I don't like what I hear, I'm gone. I'll see you soon, Mr. Ketch."

Mary hung up and started the car. She had over two thousand miles to cover to meet with Lady Bevell and there was no more time to waste. No, it was definitely time to be proactive. It was time to get rid of the problem once and for all.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 **A/N:**

 **Oh my goodness, it's been a lifetime since I posted! I have all the usual excuses- working way too much, suffering through a bout of acute bronchitis with a relentless virus, travelling to SPNTor Con earlier this month (and having a fantabulous time!) and of course, having a 41-page chapter I'd somehow managed to have time to write but not edit. This update is the first chunk of that chapter. Hopefully, I'll manage to chip away at the rest of it sooner rather than later. Hopefully, someone out there still wants to read it. To you I say, thank you and enjoy!**

They were hours into the drive back to Sioux Falls but, unlike the trip up to Manitoba, _this_ ride had been uncharacteristically quiet. Each of the Impala's occupants were lost in their own thoughts. Jody had claimed to be no worse for wear when Sam had checked on her hours ago but really, she'd been whirling inside. Apart from her waaaaay too near-death experience at the hands of demon-Mary, she was somewhat worried about _actually_ dying at the hands of the _real_ Mary. Her fear wasn't irrational. Jael's attempts to torment and intimidate her with stories of the savage killer that the Winchester matriarch had once been, had definitely hit the bulls-eye. In her heart of hearts, she really, _really_ didn't think (read: prayed) that she had anything to worry about, but no matter how much of a family blowout they were currently having, Sam and Dean would hardly appreciate her getting into a cage match with their mother. If it was a matter of protecting _them_ however, well, they'd have to get through _her_ first.

She turned away from the window to look at them. The boys. _Her_ boys. That's how she'd come to think of them. Dean was acting exactly as she'd expected him to- his jaw was set rigidly and, apart from a few near indecipherable grunts, he hadn't made another sound the whole way. Sam was currently texting on his phone, furtively glancing over at Dean every so often. From her position behind the driver's seat, she could make out the small smile on his face and the sudden flush of pleasure as he glanced at the screen. He seemed to catch himself though, conspicuously clearing his throat loudly and glancing at his brother yet again- paradoxically making it more obvious that he was trying to hide…whatever he was trying to hide. She turned back to look out the window, his behaviour reminding her of the many times Alex had been... her eyes widened as she flicked them back over to him. Did he…..? No, she couldn't have read the situation right because, really, where would he have found the time? Between fighting the Darkness for the better part of a year, getting kidnapped by the British hunters they'd told her about, and now being responsible for a little girl and Claire, there weren't many opportunities for new relationships and Sam Winchester was a romantic. He'd want to 'do it right'- with dates and flowers and poetry.

Dean, on the other hand, usually drifted towards looking for love in all the wrong places. His daughter's very existence was proof of that. Yet, during one of his more candid moments years ago, he'd shared a little about Lisa and Ben and the life he'd had to give up. In the years she'd known the Winchesters, she'd come to realize that Dean experienced emotions more on a visceral level and at times, was ill-equipped to deal with them. She'd assumed that his childhood or lack thereof, had taught him at a young age how not to _do_ vulnerable. The only cracks she'd ever seen in his armour appeared when those he really cared about were threatened. It made this situation with Emma and Mary all the more worrying. Fundamental Winchester principles about the importance of family were changing and Jody knew that things were about to get a whole lot worse.

She didn't have time to dwell on it any further though, because they'd reached the house. Some small talk, promises to keep in touch, warnings to Alex to be good, and a few hugs later, and the boys were back on the road.

The silence in the car continued even as the brothers arrived at their local market in Lebanon. Dean grumbled something about going over to the liquor store and Sam left him to it, choosing not to pick a fight when his brother was this upset. The last few days had been pretty crappy for both of them and by the look in Dean's eyes, any attempts to try to get him to talk about it was likely to get Sam shot. As much as he knew that Dean had meant every word he'd said to their mother, Sam had no doubt at all that the finality of this latest confrontation was devastating to his brother. Dean had worshipped Mary's memory for Sam's entire life. The two shared a bond that Sam would never understand. Not only had he never had the opportunity to know her but worse, she'd died to save him. That meant that he'd enjoyed a lifetime of guilt, as if he'd robbed Dean of the idyllic life he would have had if his little brother had never been born. So, when Sam had first seen his mother in the basement of that farmhouse, his first emotion had been overwhelming relief. Finally, he could forgive himself for ruining the Winchesters. Now, he had no idea what to do. He didn't want to lose this amazing chance with Mary but he understood his brother's position. To know Emma was to love and adore her. Dean's happiness and future was wrapped up in his child and Sam was going to do everything he could to protect that.

As he stood in the checkout line, he let his mind wander to the text he'd received from Amelia during the drive to Jody's. She'd finally set a time for their 'date' and he couldn't lie- he was thrilled. He'd tried to talk himself out of this but the attempt had been halfhearted at best despite some pretty strong arguments. Amelia was still married, for one, and the last time they'd tried unsuccessfully to do this had been spectacularly painful for both of them. The problem was that Sam was still deeply in love with her and he didn't think he'd have the strength to let her go again. He shook his head in consternation, telling himself to get a grip. He couldn't get ahead of himself. He had to wait to see how everything was going to play out but if she was willing, he was all in. The only thing he had to worry about right now was currently outside likely getting a head-start on drinking himself into oblivion. Sam paid for the groceries and headed outside, finding Dean already waiting by the car.

"What is it?" Sam asked, noting the worried look on his brother's face as he loaded the bags into the trunk.

"Claire called. Emma's aged again and she's not taking it well."

Sam exhaled loudly, shaking his head. "Let's go."

* * *

Dean really wished he could have a redo of the events of the last twenty-four hours. In one day, he'd managed to destroy any chance at reconciliation with his mother. Obviously, he'd never wanted their growing animosity to reach this point, but his daughter was everything and he'd give his life to make sure that she not only had the chance at a childhood (however abbreviated), but that she experienced the unconditional love of a family, got an education and maybe, in about thirty or forty years, had daughters of her own.

Dean had always just assumed that he would go out in a blaze of glory and he'd grown to accept that over the years. Sam had too. Hunters just didn't get to live the dream. But things had changed- _he_ had changed. Contrary to the laws of the universe, Dean Winchester had a child to raise and he was gonna do whatever it took to protect her….from all comers- and there were an unprecedented number of 'comers' recently. His mother, the British Men of Losers who'd been conspicuously absent of late, other hunters, who would always be a threat if they found out about his daughter's background and his daughter, herself. Actually, Emma was his biggest concern right now. Claire had called him when he'd been about to purchase a higher than usual volume of his favoured instrument of self-medication, whiskey. He'd grabbed a bottle of bourbon for good measure as well. Dean was well aware that he was only a few fifths short of being a full-blown alcoholic at the best of times, but what lay ahead of him at the Bunker had him reaching for the extra fortification. Claire's unwelcome news had just made everything that much worse.

There was no doubt about it, he really _was_ a crappy father. Yet again, his kid had aged and he hadn't been there. He'd slammed both bottles back on the shelf and stormed out of the liquor store to wait for Sam. Dean would never admit it out loud and certainly not to his brother, but Emma needed him to be more emotionally available, _especially_ now. He was going to have to step up his game or _he_ was going to be one to drive his daughter away. Dean had learned what not to do from the best. He wasn't going to be John Winchester.

* * *

"Em?" Claire said to the little girl who was sulking in her room, "Your Dad and your Uncle Sam are home. Don't you want to come out and see them? I'm sure they've missed you….."

Emma appreciated the attempted cajoling on Claire's part but she was nine years old now-ish, and she had a right to stay mad if she wanted to. Not only had her Dad (she refused to call him Daddy anymore) gotten angry with her when _he'd_ been the one making empty promises but he'd sent her to bed early. She was never going to speak to him again.

"I'm good right here," she replied, crossing her legs and picking up the next Supernatural book, 'No Rest for the Wicked.'

"Hey!" Claire exclaimed, plucking the book out of her hand, "What did I say about reading these on your own?"

"That was when I was a kid, Claire," Emma scoffed, tossing her long blonde ponytail over her shoulder, "I'm much older now."

"I wouldn't be cashing in your social security checks just yet, Em," Claire replied sarcastically, "I don't know if you should read this one…..it's pretty upsetting."

"I think I can handle it," Emma said stubbornly, "I mean, how bad can it be? It's not like Dad and Uncle Sammy die or anything. They're outside, right?"

"Emma!" Claire's voice was suddenly stern, taking the younger girl by surprise, "We had an agreement about these and if you can't stick to it, you aren't going to read any more of them. _Ever_. Okay?"

Emma was taken aback for all of two seconds before she scowled, crossing her arms and huffing. "I don't see what the big deal is. I should be able to read them if I want to. It's like reading a history book….about _my family_ ….."

"Emma," Dean's deep voice came from the doorway, and both girls turned their heads to look at him.

He looked weary, like he hadn't slept in a few days which was likely true. Emma looked away, embarrassment and anger making her unable to meet his eyes.

"How about I leave you two alone for a minute," Claire offered, getting up from her perch on the edge of the bed.

"Thanks, Claire," Dean said, as she made her way towards him, "Sam's got all the groceries you asked for. He could probably use a hand putting them away."

"Okay," she said quietly as she moved passed him, "but don't forget I need to talk to you…" then she whispered, " _before you get into anything with her_."

Dean nodded and waited a beat before he turned back to his daughter and entered the room. He was silent for a minute, staring at her transformation both in wonder and with a little apprehension. The time between 'agings' had been shorter this time and he was amazed at just how much older she looked. Not only had she grown several inches but her hair had darkened slightly, and was a little straighter than before. Dean was struck by the realization that Emma was starting to more clearly resemble the teenaged girl he'd met so many years ago. He walked over to her bed and sat down, noting that she was pointedly refusing to look at him.

"Hey babygirl," he said quietly and encouragingly, "Your uncle and I are gonna make burgers for lunch. You wanna come help? You know it's all hands on deck when Uncle Sammy tries to cook…. Gotta stop him from burning down the Bunker…."

Emma stayed silent, turning her body as far away from him as she could without rolling over completely. He couldn't help it, he smiled at her little display of the Winchester stubbornness; it was both its own blessing and curse.

"Honey?" he tried again, sighing a little, "You were right. I _did_ break my promise and I'm so sorry." He could see that he wasn't making a dent so he continued, "You probably don't know this… well, of course you don't know this, but I pretty much raised your Uncle Sammy from the time he was just a baby. Your grandma…uh, Mary was, um, well, she couldn't be there and your Grandpa John was busy…working. It was just your uncle and me most of the time. I….I think I forgot how hard that could be. Claire's been so great, you know, taking care of you when I've had to go out on a job but sweetheart, I _never_ wanted you to feel like you weren't the most important…."

Emma still didn't really react and Dean couldn't stand it any longer. She yelped when he reached over and picked her up, arranging her on his lap face up. He'd done this so many times over these past few weeks- cradling her in his arms. He smiled down at her beautiful face, seeing glimpses of the unmutable Winchester features there and again feeling a depth of love for her that he'd never thought possible. He leaned down and kissed her forehead as she stared up at him still surprised by his quick movements.

"I love you, Emma," he declared simply, "And nothing and no one will ever change that. I'm gonna make sure that I prove that to you, _every_ day from now on, okay?"

Looking into his eyes and seeing the truth of his words reflected there, she wasn't able to hold on to her anger any longer.

"Okay…. Daddy," she whispered, cuddling closer to him, the reassurance in his embrace imparting a feeling of safety that only he could.

Accepting his apology didn't mean that she wasn't still a little hurt. Yet again she'd aged and her father hadn't been there. This time had been particularly scary because the transition had been accompanied by even more vivid dreams or rather, memories. She was pretty sure now that the terrifying events that came unbidden to her mind while she slept, were ones she had actually lived through before. After all, she wasn't stupid. She saw the meaningful looks and occasionally overheard her name being whispered during muffled, secret conversations that suddenly stopped when she appeared unexpectedly. _Everyone_ knew a lot more than they were telling her and she'd all but had enough. Taking matters into her own hands, she'd begun reading the Supernatural books any chance she got, the guilt at disobeying Claire rationalized away as secondary to her right to pursue information about her own existence and her mother's identity. That particular quest had yet to be successful but she had sure learned a _mountain_ of information about her father and uncle. Yes, she _did_ know that they'd basically raised themselves. Many of the books she'd gone through thus far had outlined several key conversations between the Winchester sons which had helped her understand not only the especially close bond between them, but also their relationship with John Winchester.

It was clear that though her grandfather was revered by both, there was still a not-so-subtle undercurrent of deep resentment towards him. The opposite seemed to be true for Mary. That was why Emma was so surprised that her grandmother hadn't been around much. She really wanted to ask why but it never seemed like the right time, and frankly, she was afraid that asking too many questions would lead to her own secrets being found out.

Her emotions had been swirling even when she'd been a baby and that inner turmoil worsened every time she aged. She'd had the particularly horrible recurring 'dream' just last night- the one where she'd tracked her father down to some seedy hotel, the need to kill him like some biological imperative emblazoned on her very soul. She'd already seen her Uncle Sam shooting her in previous dreams, but this time, she'd not only experiencedtheanger and humiliation of being thwarted from her mission, but had also felt the physical pain from the bullet. Emptiness. Profound, never-ending hopelessness had followed, overwhelming all her senses and threatening to destroy her sanity until just as suddenly, she'd found herself in the terrifying 'other' place. There, she'd also had to contend with being alone and scared, vicious monsters relentlessly hunting her in a hell where time had no meaning.

Not surprisingly, she'd woken up in a blind panic, rolling off the bed in her semi-unconscious state as she tried to get away from the group of vampires that had surrounded her in the dream. She'd immediately screamed for Dean, causing Claire to come rushing in. The older girl had tried her best, but Emma had _needed_ her father and had remained inconsolable. When Dean had called a short time later to say that he was going off to help someone else _yet again_ , the intense hostility and resentment she'd felt for him in that moment brought Emma right back to that hotel room. She would have killed him if he'd been standing in front of her right then and that feeling had utterly terrified her. She'd found both the 'dream' and her reaction, abhorrent and, with no idea how to cope, she'd lashed out at him. He'd reprimanded her for the first time ever as a result, and it had her feel even worse. Now he was home, and offering the olive branch she so desperately wanted to accept. Emma was well aware that things couldn't continue like they had. This time she'd grown older over a shorter period, inching ever closer to the age when she'd attempted to….do the unthinkable. So, although she was nervous about what he'd say when she finally came clean, she was even more worried about the truths he'd been hiding from _her_. Dean's impassioned declarations gave her hope.

"Sweetheart," Dean said, breaking through her introspection, "we need to have a talk. You, me, Uncle Sam and Claire are gonna sit down together for a family discussion."

Emma nodded, an odd mixture of relief and apprehension on her face.

"…but _after_ we eat. Alright, little girl, let's go save the Bunker. I need you and Claire to distract Uncle Sam- tell him you want him to teach you how to make a salad or something."

Emma giggled as Dean tickled her a little before kissing her forehead and putting her on her feet.

"I love you too, Daddy," she muttered shyly, burying her head in his abdomen as he stood up. He held her tightly and kissed the top of her head.

"Thank you, baby," he whispered back, "I love you too."

They headed to the kitchen where they found both Claire and Sam, laughing and elbows deep in preparing lunch. Dean ordered his brother to back away from the grill and Emma did her bit by asking him to help her make coleslaw with lots and lots of mayo. Sam was quick to put the kibosh on that notion, immediately moving to stop his niece from emptying the whole jar into a bowl. Emma glanced at Dean who had taken over cooking the burgers. He winked at her as her uncle began a lecture about choosing healthier alternatives, gracing him with a tiny, mischievous smile when Sam's back was turned. Claire saw the whole exchange and shook her head in amusement. It was good to see that father and daughter had managed to mend fences somewhat. Of course, she was still really worried about the conversation to come, but she'd take this calm before that storm. It never seemed like they got to just enjoy each other's company of late and, with Emma growing older more and more quickly, it was likely that such opportunities would become fewer and farther between.

They had a great time. The meal was fantastic and everyone ate their fill three times over. Dean, of course, still managed to down a slice of pecan pie which he shared with Emma. To anyone fluent in Dean, _that_ proved the depth of his love for her more than anything else. They all shared clean up duties, afterwards making their way to Sam's room to watch something on Netflix. It was virtually impossible to come to some mutual decision as to what that would be, until Dean declared that he had the deciding vote and they started watching Marvel's Daredevil Season one.

Sam questioned Dean multiple times on its suitability for Emma, but his brother was adamant that she share this experience with him. Emma pleaded silently to Sam with her puppy-dog eyes and he backed off. He knew Dean planned to have a meeting after they'd spent some family time together, so he left it alone, not wanting to disrupt the easy, fun dynamic they'd been enjoying since they'd come home. After the events around the funeral, he needed it and he was sure that Dean did too. They'd get to the hard stuff in a minute.

Sam looked over at his brother and niece lounging next to him on the bed. They were both staring at the screen with rapt attention, Dean's arm draped around Emma who was plastered to his side. Claire was laying across the bottom, curled up in the leftover space. It was a tight fit, given there were two guys over six feet stretched out on a double bed but somehow, they'd all managed to arrange themselves comfortably with very little effort. Sam found himself smiling- _this_ is what family was meant to be. He was with Dean on this one; they had to protect this no matter what.

* * *

"Okay, Claire," Dean said, as they stood in the corner of the library, "What did you want to tell me?"

They'd finished about five episodes of the show and it was now early evening. Dean figured they'd had a good afternoon all round, but it was time to get the unpleasant stuff over with. He was in a considerably better mood than he'd been when they'd gotten back from Jody's, and he was ready to get everything out in the open.

Claire stared down at her feet for a moment trying to psych herself up. It was time to do this.

"Dean," she began, finally managing to look up at him, "Lemme start by saying that I thought I was doin' the right thing at the time and Emma begged me not to tell you. I…I wasn't sure what to do, I mean, I thought they were just dreams, you know? But then you told me a bit about her Mom and what she is…."

"Claire," Dean interrupted, taking hold of her shoulders reassuringly, "I won't lie to you, I may get mad, so I'm not gonna promise that I won't, but I think we can agree that we _all_ need to get some things off our chests. I don't want my kid saying she hates me again until she's at least twenty-one…."

Claire smiled then took a deep, fortifying breath. "Okay, alright. Emma's…..she's been having 'dreams' since she was a baby. She remembers being older and the woods. At first, they weren't detailed but now…. She was terrified to tell you 'cause she didn't want you to think there was something wrong with her. Then when you guys got back from Ohio, she had a flashback to the day she went to kill you and Sam killed her instead…..."

"Jesus!" Dean muttered, completely taken aback. His little girl was clearly all too skilled at hiding things from him. He'd had no idea that she'd been reliving her past life- either as a teenaged killing machine or as one of the hunted in Purgatory.

"I'm sorry, Dean!" Claire blurted out suddenly, "She begged me not to tell you….. _begged_ me! Every time she aged, she got more afraid 'cause she didn't understand what was happening and all you'd say was that she got it from her mother and that you'd tell her when she was older. She's been building up all that worry, Dean and it's killing her! I honestly didn't know what to do….!"

"Okay," Dean said quietly, turning over her words in his mind.

After a moment, he looked over at Claire again and saw the worry in her face. He knew instantly what she was thinking.

"I'm not happy that you kept this from me. You get that, right?"

She bobbed her head quickly, barely making eye contact. Dean let her squirm for a few seconds and then he said, "Please don't lie to me again, Claire. Okay, you were torn, but come on, you know enough about Emma's past to realize that you shoulda told me about all of this. For everyone's sake…"

"I know…"

"This can't happen again, Claire. You tell me _everything_! I want your word."

"You have it." Her eyes glistened, as she nodded again, "You have my word."

"Okay, kid," Dean's voice took on a more upbeat note, "Let's go play family feud!"

Claire snorted, slapping him on the arm and muttering the word, 'Dork,' affectionately.

He smirked at her and the two of them made their way out to the Map Room where Sam was playing Boggle with Emma.

"Good word, Emma," Sam ruffled his niece's hair as she giggled and tried to scoot away, "I think you're gonna beat my score this round."

"Woah!" Dean shouted, raising his hands and causing his brother and daughter to stop and stare at him, "You don't want her reading comic books but she can spend her time playing board games? Are you trying to make her into a nerdette like you?"

"Be grateful I'm trying to _improve_ her vocabulary and not devolve it to your level…"

"Hey Samantha, I gotta bunch o' four letter words I can teach you how to spell…!"

"All right, children!" Claire shouted to drown out Sam's less than appropriate response, "Don't we have something else we…"

"Claire's right." Sam glared at his smirking brother.

"Yes she is," Dean agreed easily, coming to sit beside him. Claire sat next to Emma on the opposite side of the table, pulling her chair closer to the younger girl. The atmosphere changed in an instant, and Emma immediately became worried.

"Wha..What's wrong, Daddy?" she asked, her eyes darting between the adults around her.

"Sweetheart, I want you to know that you're not in any trouble, okay? No one is in any trouble, except maybe me…"

Emma stared at him surprised, realising that this was going to be the family discussion her Dad had mentioned. She glanced around at everyone, noting that they all looked guilty and uncomfortable.

"What do you mean?"

"I haven't been fair to you," Dean said quietly, "and I'm sorry my being stupid has hurt you, baby. You're a really special little girl. Not just because you're a Winchester, not just because you're my daughter and not just because we all love you…"

Emma glanced at Claire who was looking down at the table with an apprehensive look on her face and then the youngest Winchester understood- Claire had told her Dad everything- about her dreams, her fears and worries. Emma swiveled her head back to her father, anticipation in her eyes.

"….but also because of how you came to be. I met your Mom, Lydia, when your Uncle Sam and I were working a job in Washington. She was a beautiful woman and we, uh, really liked each other so we, uh….had you. Your Mom and I….I guess you could say that we really didn't get a chance to know each other well so I didn't know about you at first….but then I met you, and well, it became pretty clear that you were _my_ little girl. You looked like your Mom, of course, but that chin…..those eyes.."

Dean looked over at Sam and sighed. His brother nodded slightly, trying to encourage him to share this next part. Emma knew what that meant; she was getting better at reading the body language between them. She braced herself.

"Em," Dean reached across the table and held her hand, "If it were up to me, I'd spare you some of this…..but that's just me being an overprotective Dad…."

"It…it's okay, Daddy, I know that Ly..Lydia was some kind of…of monster….but I.."

"What?" Dean was genuinely shocked, glancing over at Sam.

"Ummmm, Claire and I, uh, were reading the Supernatural books. I know what you and Uncle Sammy do…."

Dean and Sam turned their eyes to Claire who grimaced nervously. "Surprise?"

The Brothers Winchester bore matching glares but didn't say anything.

"It's not her fault!" Emma cried, wishing she hadn't mentioned Claire's name, "She told me not to but I've been readin' them in secret…"

"Why, honey?" Sam asked, his voice gentle.

"'Cause…'cause I thought I'd find something about me or my mom."

"How far did you get?" Dean asked, his voice taking on a slight edge. He was going to have a few choice words for Claire but he'd get to that later. Now he knew why his kid loved story-time with her so much.

"Bello," Emma murmured, picking up on Dean's mood change. She really didn't want him getting mad at her again.

"You've read 'Mystery Spot'?" Sam asked, his eyebrows raised in alarm.

Emma just nodded and Dean closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Baby," he said, finally, "Come here."

He opened his arms and Emma practically scrambled over the table to get to him. She dove at him and he pulled her securely onto his lap, wrapping her up tightly in his arms. He stared at Sam, the two having a silent conversation as his daughter shuddered with sobs. His brother reached out and held her tiny hand, needing to touch some part of her to offer what little comfort he could. Sam had been twenty-four years old when he'd lived through the hell of seeing Dean die over and over again during his own personal Groundhog Day. For a child to have read that about her father made his heart break all over again.

"Emma," Dean murmured into her ear, his voice soft yet stern at the same time, "No more, do you hear me? This is why you shouldn't be reading those damned books. After today, you won't have access to them anymore so it won't be an issue. And when you're older….. _a lot_ older _,_ we'll talk about them together."

Emma started to protest but Dean shushed her and continued, "I'll make you a promise though, to you and Claire." Dean looked over at the older girl as Emma sniffled and stared up at him. "I want you to know that from now on, both of you can talk with me openly about any and everything and I'm gonna do my best not to leave you in the dark. I may not always tell you everything but I won't lie to you…."

"That's not fair," Emma mumbled under her breath. She was pretty annoyed that her previously unrestricted fact-finding mission was coming to an abrupt end.

"Fair is what I say it is, little girl. I'm the Dad and the supreme ruler of this Bunker. What I say around here, goes and the sooner we're all on the same page about that, the better. If you two listen to me and Sam, then we won't have any problems, will we?"

He let the implied threat hang in the air as Sam tried to maintain a united front by not rolling his eyes. Supreme ruler, huh? Sometimes his brother was an incredible ass but right now, he had to ignore said character flaw and project the austerity the situation called for.

"Now," Dean's tone was lighter though still serious, "I think we need to finish talking about your mother. You're right. She _is_ what we'd classify as supernatural. Emma….she's an Amazon…"

"Wonder Woman…" His daughter whispered in shock, her eyes closing as she imagined the possibilities-like getting bracelets of her own.

"No honey," Dean corrected quickly, tightening his hold on her to get her attention, "Wonder Woman isn't…" Dean paused and cleared his throat, the expression on his face making it seem as if the words were hurting him physically, "… _real_. She may have been based on legends about the real Amazons but they're nothing like her…"

"How are they different?"

Dean ran his fingers through her beautiful blonde hair, amazed anew by how quickly it and his daughter had grown over these past weeks. It also reminded him that it might only be a few more days to weeks before she was a teenager or grown woman, looking to make her own way in the world and maybe even trying to kill him. Right here, right now though, she was his sweet, innocent little girl and _he_ was about to be the one to change all of that.

"Daddy?"

The little voice broke through Dean's introspection and he cleared his throat again, his breath hitching when he tried to speak. Sam, seeing how upset his brother was, jumped in immediately.

"Well, we know that Amazons are strong," he said, diverting Emma's gaze from Dean's visibly shaken face, "Like _really_ strong"

He tickled the bottom of her foot and Emma giggled as she drew it away from him. While she was distracted, Sam checked to see if Dean had managed to compose himself. _He'd_ taken the easy part but the rest? That was something Emma needed to hear from her father. Ready or not, Dean took his brother's well-timed intervention for the boon it was. He'd been avoiding this for long enough and it was time to man up.

"Baby," he said quietly, drawing Em's attention back to him, "listen to me. What I'm about to tell you…..it's going to be really hard to hear. Amazons get older really fast. You get that from your Mom. It usually takes only a few days before they become teenagers….."

"Really?" Emma sounded suitably impressed, "When can I drive Baby?"

Sam snorted at the comical look Dean was now sporting, the unexpected question really throwing off his momentum.

"Uh, well, we can talk about that when you hit thirty, honey," he replied, kissing her forehead, "Right now, I need to tell you something that's pretty serious."

"Just say it," he heard Claire murmur none too quietly, "Rip it off fast."

Dean's eyes narrowed but he didn't take his eyes off his daughter. He couldn't really deny Claire's sentiment because she was right; he was stalling again.

The older Winchester took a determined breath. "The Amazons are a society of only girls and women. A lot about them and their traditions are pretty impressive and have been around probably for thousands of years. But in the case of their feelings about men? Let's just say that normally, I'd be all for girl power…." Dean hiked Emma up in his lap and held on to her just a little more firmly because he wasn't sure how she was going to take this next part. "Em…the moms train their daughters to fight, and they do that by teaching them both how to suffer through pain and how to inflict it on others. When they get to be sixteen years old, they're expected to find their fathers and…..and kill them…"

"What?" Emma cried, her voice tremulous as her entire body shook, "I….Daddy, I don't…."

"I know, baby," Dean wrapped her up even tighter, kissing the top of her head again and murmuring that everything would be all right.

He looked helplessly over at Sam when his efforts fell flat, his daughter continuing her somewhat hysterical crying despite his attempts at consoling her.

"Emma," Sam said quietly, "We don't know that any of that's going to happen…."

He paused, the "again" left unspoken but Emma recognised it immediately. She suddenly pulled back from her father's embrace, tears streaming down her face though her eyes were blazing.

"I knew it! _I knew it_! I kept hoping it was just a dream but now, hearing it from you…I knew….I _knew_! I've lived before, I was _older…before_! And…and I was so mad that I had those thoughts, those _horrible_ thoughts about you and Uncle Sam! I was so scared, _all the time_ ….and I kept remembering more and more and it kept getting worse and worse…!"

"Emma!" Dean exclaimed, taken aback by his daughter's outburst, "I'm sorry, baby, I…I didn't know you were…"

"How am I a little kid again?" Emma ignored her father, pulling away and scrambling awkwardly out of his lap, "What was that place in the woods with all those…. _things_? They kept trying to kill me….!"

"It's called Purgatory," Sam answered, his tone placating. He placed an hand on her shoulder and she shrugged him off immediately, the memory of him shooting her too raw, too confusing, "It's….it's where the souls of supernatural beings go when they die…."

"You mean monsters, right? Monsters like me?"

"Yes, Em," Claire piped in, the look of anguish on the brothers' faces prompting her to take over momentarily, "but you're not a monster, hunny, you…."

"You should've told me, Claire!" Emma screamed, causing the older girl to recoil, "You said you didn't know anything! You _lied_!"

"Emma," Claire whispered, guiltily, "You begged me not to say anything but when I realized what was happening, I knew your Dad had to be the one to tell you everything. Remember, I told you that I was wrong for hiding it from Dean and that I was gonna tell him?"

Emma glared angrily for a moment but then nodded slowly.

"Baby?" Dean called quietly, "I'm the only one to blame here, okay? Not Claire and not Uncle Sammy. _I_ should've known something was going on with you. I'm sorry that I've been so busy with work…I mean with hunting. I should have been paying more attention to you but I'm an idiot, okay? I wanted to believe that everything was just freaking fantastic but the truth is, I was just afraid. Afraid of having to tell you 'cause I didn't want to have to see _that_ look on your face. You're still so young, Em. I would have told you eventually but…"

Emma studied him intently, as if searching for the truth in his face. She nodded in seeming acceptance and Dean breathed an internal sigh of relief. Everyone was quiet for a moment, the adults waiting with baited breath to see what she would do or say next. It wasn't what they expected.

"Daddy? I…I'm really tired. Can I go lie down?"

"Uhh…s-sure, baby girl," Dean stuttered, surprised by this sudden change in demeanour. He started to get up but Sam beat him to it.

"I'll take her," he announced, sweeping her up in his arms and catching her unawares. Surprisingly, she didn't protest given her earlier reaction. In fact, she wrapped her arms around him and put her head on his shoulder. Sam took her back to her room, laying her down on the bed and pulling off her Mary-Janes. He tucked her under the covers, both of them staring at each other in silence for a moment. He stroked her hair then, tucking the unruly strands behind her ears.

"Uncle Sam?" she asked, staring up at him with wide eyes, "I….I died. How am I here?"

Sam closed his eyes briefly, the unwelcomed memory of killing her flitting through his mind. "Your Dad has friends in high places. In our line of work, sweetheart, we've encountered a lot of different types of..beings. You've met Cass. He's an angel…"

"Wow!"

"Yeah. We know his, uh, Dad, Chuck. We helped him out with something big last year and he wanted to do something nice to thank Dean…something he knew would make your Dad very happy. So, he brought you back and your Grandma….kind of…"

Emma didn't have much of a reaction to this revelation so Sam continued.

"I want you to know that both your Dad and I couldn't be happier that he did. And…. I am so sorry that I had….that I shot you. I didn't have a choice, hunny. You were going to kill Dean and I knew he didn't have it in him to defend himself…not from you….."

"It's…it's okay, Uncle Sammy," Emma's eyes were glistening again, "I remember now…I remember _everything_ about that night. I got to that room and all I could think about was hurting him….I wanted to see him bleed – dead…."

Emma swallowed thickly, looking nauseated.

"It's okay….."

"I didn't know anything else, Uncle Sammy!" she suddenly shrieked, sitting bolt upright and grabbing hold of his arm, "I only did what they taught me, what they trained me to do! If I'd known….they beat me and burned me….I never questioned anything…..."

Sam reached out with his free hand to try to hug her but all at once, he became aware of a pain shooting down his other arm. He looked to where Emma's hand gripped him and he almost cried out when she tightened her hold even more. His eyes widened as the implication hit him and he was instantly filled with dread. Emma was about nine years old but her vice-like grasp was well beyond anything of which she should be capable.

"Emma, sweetheart!" he gasped, "Let go!"

It took a few seconds for her to even register that he'd spoken but then she released him and the pain worsened as the blood began to recirculate. She didn't seem to notice what she'd done and he didn't want her to. Using his other arm, he practically dragged her to him, lifting her onto his lap and hugging her tightly. With her head buried in his chest and unable to see what he was doing, Sam held out his injured arm behind her head. Bruising from each of her fingers had already set in and his eyes narrowed with worry, as he leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

He held her until she'd cried herself to sleep and then he lay her gently back in the bed, tucking her in. He stood up, staring down at her still in shock, yet overcome by a fierce need to protect this little girl. Dean deserved, _for once_ , to be able to hold onto something good in his life; Sam was going to make sure of it. He returned to the Map Room a few moments later, finding Dean and Claire in the middle of a discussion about actions and consequences.

"…what it means, Claire, is that you're up to strike two. You get to three and I'm goin' medieval, starting with thumbscrews! You get me?"

Claire struggled a little to keep a straight face at Dean's rather exaggerated attempts at intimidation but she understood the sentiment. She was on the proverbial 'thin ice' with the Winchesters and she really didn't want to piss them off anymore…well, at least not for a while. She'd spent most of the last decade or so being unhappy- feeling displaced, unwanted and unloved. Though reluctant at first, she'd believed that she'd hit the motherload with Jody but things hadn't worked out like she'd hoped. Now, after all this time, she _finally_ felt like she was part of something real and good. She'd been welcomed with open arms into this little family unit and she was learning to trust again….to feel _safe_ again.

Claire was going to become a hunter, whether they liked it or not, of course, but she was going to do her best to ensure that she did it _with_ them, and not _in spite_ of them. Empty promises of torture designed to scare her straight aside, Claire knew that if she didn't do her best to cooperate, Dean would send her back to Jody in a heartbeat. She'd always be grateful to the Sherriff, but she didn't want that to happen. She belonged here.

So she dutifully nodded her head and promised to stop doing things that pissed him off. He pulled her in for a quick hug, letting go when he saw Sam.

"How's Em?"

"She's asleep. She remembers her life with the Amazons, Dean. The torture, the training…she got really upset because she didn't understand how she'd been reborn after Purgatory…"

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her that Cass' Dad wanted to do something to make you happy since we helped him out last year. Look man, I didn't really go into many details about it. She was already pretty overwhelmed about everything…especially about that night. She apologized for coming after you and she…she said she understood why I did what I did. It broke my heart…"

"Son of a bitch!" Dean started for the doorway but Sam held him back.

"Let her sleep," he said, "You've both been through a lot today and you need a break."

"Sam…"

"Dean," his brother insisted, "there's something else."

"What, Sam?" Dean asked, pulling his arm away, "What is it?"

Sam raised his arm and Dean's eyes widened when he saw the small handprint.

"What the hell?"

Claire walked over and stared in shock. "What does that mean?"

The two men were silent for a moment before Dean replied, his voice raw with emotion, "It means that Team Free-will has a new mission. My kid's not gonna turn into one of those hell-bitches because we are going to find some way to stop this before it even starts…"

"Dean, I don't think…" Sam began, not liking the gleam in his brother's eyes.

"We're gonna start by finding some way to turn off this _Renesmee_ bullshit. If she doesn't age as fast …"

"Did he just say, _Renesmee_?" Claire muttered to Sam.

"….maybe we'll buy enough time to figure out how to turn off her Amazonian DNA." Dean looked between the two of them, "Emma's not gonna lose out on having the best goddamned childhood _ever_ this go round…"

Sam and Claire stared at each other.

"And how are we supposed to do all this?" Claire asked.

"To start, we're gonna focus on research- the internet, libraries, other hunters…..we'll tear the Bunker apart if we have to. We're not taking on any new cases until we find something. Emma's our only priority and I'm not letting her down again. Are you with me?"

"Yeah, Dean."

"Of course!"

Dean nodded in grim satisfaction. "I'm going to sit with Em. We'll start coming up with strategies after dinner when she's down for the night."

He moved off towards the living quarters, leaving Claire and Sam staring after him.

"Should we go follow him?" Claire asked with concern.

"This is how he deals," Sam sighed, running his hand through his hair, "It's better if he can channel his anger into something productive, trust me." Sam paused for a second giving her the once over, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Dean was just making sure that I knew what 'being grounded' meant."

"And you're clear now?" he asked, his voice taking on a decidedly paternal tone as he stared down at her intensely.

"Yeah Sam," Claire replied with the hint of a smile, "You guys won't have anything to worry about from me. We gotta focus on helping Em now, right?"

Sam smiled warmly, patting Claire on the shoulder and turning towards the library.

"Sam?" she called after him softly, "You know, uh, I heard you before…..on the phone…."

Sam turned, his eyebrows raised in question as he came back to stand in front of her.

"You….you almost called me your daughter."

Sam flushed, again running his hand through his hair and giving her a chagrined smile. "You caught that, huh?"

"Would've been hard to miss, Sam.

"I'm sorry if it was weird," he said quietly, pausing to gather his thoughts, "Having Emma with us has made me stop and think about the future…changed my outlook about a lot of things, really. You might not believe it, but there was a time when I wasn't the uber-hunter that you know and love…."

"Nooooooooooo!" Claire wailed comically, with a laugh, "Please don't shatter my perfect vision of you!"

"Yeah, yeah, all right," Sam waved her off, good-naturedly, "I didn't know anything about the supernatural world when I was a kid. I thought my Dad was a salesman until I was eight years old. While he went out to hunt, he left Dean to watch over me. I think by the time I was six, we'd stayed in at least one seedy hotel in almost every state of the union. I wasn't sure exactly was going on, but I knew that they'd been keeping a secret from me my whole life. It made me pretty bitter and angry. For years, I'd been thinking all kinds of things- that I was nothing more than a burden, that my Dad liked Dean better…. I mean, he was always so impatient with me… like my very existence was keeping him from something more important and yet he wouldn't tell me what that something was. Sometimes I thought about stowing away in the trunk of the Impala when they went out on a job 'cause I was terrified that they wouldn't come back…."

"Sam…" Claire said sympathetically.

Sam shook his head. "Instead, I stole my Dad's journal and confronted Dean. Sure, the truth was kinda exciting but mostly scary. All I could think about was that if they'd gotten to my Mom, they could get to any one of us. Honestly, I hated them both for that first year after I found out. Enough that I got really close to running away several times. But then my Dad took me out on my first hunt and it made me feel like finally, _finally_ I was good enough to be his son too…"

Sam paused, the insecurity and sadness of those times suddenly overwhelming him anew. He rarely revisited these painful memories anymore. Self-reflection and the passage of time had managed to temper them significantly but, with the return of his mother and Emma, many deeply buried issues had begun to re-emerge, hovering just under the surface.

Claire stared at him, her face the very picture of compassion. She placed a hand on his arm and squeezed.

Sam smiled at her appreciatively. "My point is that I've been doin' this a long time, Claire. Dean and I've encountered practically every kind of monster, supernatural _and_ human that exists, and we're still here, fighting the good fight, year after year. And don't get me wrong, we've saved a lotta lives….maybe that's all you can hope for in this business. But then I think about all the people we've lost- civilians, friends, fellow hunters….. I can't help but feel this emptiness- like a hole in my gut. Apart from my brother, the Impala and this Bunker, I don't have a whole hell of a lot to show for twenty-five years of hunting. But now with Emma and you here, I've started thinking about the possibilities. Maybe I _can_ have more out of life….."

Sam paused again, and Claire had the distinct impression that his thoughts had wandered to something or _someone_ specific.

"….Maybe there's still time to leave my mark on the world. All of this is to say that I understand, Claire. I understand what drives you, because I've _been_ you. I've felt like the third wheel, I've doubted my ability to do this job, I've gone off half-cocked and almost gotten myself killed more times than I can count…..I think we're passed the stage where we can convince you to become a lawyer, right?"

Claire nodded at him with a smile on her face.

"So then I'm gonna take every opportunity to work with you and make sure I pass on everything about hunting that I can. More importantly, I'm gonna make sure that you're safe and you're gonna listen to me and Dean whether you like it or not….Deal?"

"Sounds like an old man to me," Claire replied simply, stepping forward to hug him, "But like any other head strong, self-assured, amazingly badass pseudo-daughter, I may not make any of that easy, so be warned and don't forget to cut me some slack."

"I'll try to remember that when you inevitably pull a Dean and do something stupid."

Claire chuckled and then suddenly became serious, "Did Dean say _Renesmee_? Do you think he's actually read the Twilight series?"

"Netflix," Sam replied, his tone amused, "Caught him watching the last movie a few weeks ago. He denied it and threatened to shave my head while I slept if I brought it up again. Needless to say I'm giving him a poster of Edward for his birthday."

"I'd be sure to sleep with one eye open that day if I were you..and maybe wear a bulletproof vest. Now, if only we can find a way to make him read the Harry Potter books."

Sam looked thoughtful for a moment. "Actually, I've been thinking about that and I may have found a way..."

* * *

It was much later that night when Dean and Emma re-emerged from the living area, both starving and both in the mood for pizza. Sam immediately put an end to that idea given that he'd just spent the last half-hour or so making a stir-fry for dinner. The two protested loudly, causing Sam to roll his eyes while ordering them both to set the table. Emma and Dean both sported similar looks of devastation which Sam ignored while giving the signal to Claire.

The older girl casually walked over to Emma, passing a critical eye over the child's hands and remarking that they looked a little grimy. With no further discussion, she led Emma to a bathroom down the hall under the guise of washing them before dinner. Claire planted the little seed just as Sam had suggested and five minutes later, barely unable to contain matching grins, they returned to the kitchen where Sam had just served the food. He glanced over at Claire and his niece, and though he was able to maintain his poker face, Claire knew that he was just as gleeful as she was. By the time Dean had finished his second slice of cherry pie, the four were stuffed and content.

Emma had been quite animated, happily chattering away throughout the meal and it was obvious that Dean was mesmerized by her every laugh or any time she joined in on the conversation. The pride practically radiated from him as she offered a comprehensive and logical argument as to why Marvel's Daredevil Season one was superior to Season two. Clearly she and Dean has spent a few hours watching Netflix before dinner.

When Dean told her it was bedtime, Emma let him pick her up without complaint, and she called out her goodnights to Claire and Sam. Her mischievous grin widened as she gave them a thumbs up behind Dean's back. Ten minutes later, when she had brushed her teeth and was all tucked in for the night, she turned on her puppy-dog eyes and asked him if he would read her a story.

Right now, given the events of the past few days, he was pretty much ready to give her the moon if she asked for it. A story? That was easy.

"Sure, baby girl," he replied ruffling her hair, "I'll go get the last Batm…."

"Daddy, I wanna read something else tonight," Emma said, her eyes bright with anticipation.

"Okay, hunny, what's on the menu? No Supernatural books though, right?"

"No Daddy, I know. I wanna read Harry Potter!"

Dean's face fell, anguish written all over it. "B..Baby, are you sure you don't wanna read something else? _Anything_ else?"

"Please, Daddy?" Emma widened her eyes hopefully and waited. Dean sighed heavily. There was no way he was gonna be able to fight this.

"Okay, Em," he muttered resignedly, already wondering how he was going to keep this information from Sam. Nope, he was screwed.

His smug, overgrown nerd of a brother was gonna rub this in his face for the rest of his days. Dean briefly considered preemptively smothering Sam in his sleep and hiding his body in the dungeon, before deciding that it would be too much hassle.

"They're on the shelf over there."

She pointed across the room to the brand-new box-set that her uncle had purchased from Costco. Sam had planned on reading them with her when she got older because he knew there was no way in hell he'd ever get his brother to do it. To Dean, those books and Sam's constant quoting from them, represented the height of nerdom, and he was fundamentally opposed to supporting that on principle. Also, it would drive Sam nuts.

He didn't want to believe it, but this sudden request to read the 'geek bibles' was pretty suspicious. Dean was pretty sure that he was in the midst of his own 'Pottergate' and that _everyone_ was in on this conspiracy. He narrowed his eyes; Claire and Sam were going to rue the day that they recruited his daughter into playing their games. As for Emma, she was about to get a suitable punishment for her betrayal.

Dean returned with the first book and sat on the bed, his back against the headboard.

"Ready, hunny?" he asked, pulling her up to sit back against his chest.

"Uh huh," she nodded, trying to hide her grin. She couldn't believe she was going to get away with it! Her uncle had waxed poetic about these books ever since, well, how many days old was she now? Getting to spend time with her Daddy like this, however, was the best part. With all her insecurities and fears being out in the open now, his 'sacrifice' was just one more way that her Dad was showing how much he loved her.

"Comfortable?" he asked, opening the book to the start of the first chapter.

"Uh huh," she repeated, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Hmmmm," Dean said, "There's just one thing we forgot.."

"What Daddy?" Emma raised her head, her eyes scanning the room for the mystery object.

"This!"

Dean suddenly pulled her onto his lap and began to tickle his unsuspecting daughter. She shrieked with laughter as she tried to get away, her Dad letting her catch her breath between fits of laughter.

"You thought you could set me up, huh?" he asked, going after her particularly sensitive tummy and blowing a series of raspberries that made her giggle hysterically, "Well, you and your accomplices aren't as smart as you think you are…are you? Are you?"

"Nooooo!" Emma wailed, squirming and laughing as he went after her again.

"Damn straight!" he smirked, finally taking pity on her. He put her back on the bed and tucked her into his side, "You'll try, young lady, but you're never gonna be able to put one over on your Dad, okay? I'm _always_ gonna find out."

"Okay Daddy!" Emma tittered, thinking that she was up for that challenge. Her Dad had no idea, but she had no intention whatsoever of giving up the Supernatural books. She _really_ didn't like him laying down the law and she had a sinking suspicion that as she grew older, they'd be butting heads over the rules more often. She wasn't going to worry about that now, though. Not when she was the happiest she'd ever been in her whole life.

"Yeah okay, baby girl." He kissed the top of her head and reopened the book. "All right, let's get to this magic lizard…"

"Wizard, Daddy!" Emma exclaimed, loving her Dad's teasing, "Harry's a _wizard_!"

"We'll see," he said simply, "Okay. Chapter One, The Boy who lived….."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

 **A/N. A quicker update as I try to get back in the groove of writing. This chapter was actually a whole lot longer, but I think I found a good spot to end it on. Hope you enjoy!**

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean demanded, as he buckled Emma into the back seat of the Impala.

Sam had driven into the Bunker's garage just in time to see Dean opening up Baby's back door, Emma perched on his hip. The sight was surprising given that, last he'd heard, his niece wasn't allowed to venture out into the world yet- recent events with Alex notwithstanding.

"Uhhh, I…I..," he stammered, not really prepared to defend his early morning excursion, "I went to do some of that _research….."_

Sam's eyes slid to Emma and Dean's forbidding expression morphed into one of understanding.

"Did you find anything?" he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper as he eyed his daughter.

"Uh, no, not really." Sam felt like an absolute bastard, seeing the disappointment in Dean's eyes.

"Well, you could have left a note or something!" the older Winchester groused, his tone only slightly less belligerent as he recovered, "After your _dick move_ last night, it's clear you can't be trusted…."

Sam looked skyward as if praying for patience. "You had to read a book with your adoring daughter. I'm _so_ sorry it was such a _horrible_ experience…"

"Bitch!"

"Jerk!"

"Fine!" Dean narrowed his eyes, "Expect payback. There _will_ be blood!"

"Oh my God, when did you become such a melodramatic whiner?" Sam exclaimed, ducking in through the backdoor and kissing his niece on the top of her head, "Mornin' Em."

"Hi Uncle Sam!" she replied brightly, "Are you coming with Daddy and me?"

"I don't know, kiddo," Sam asked, backing out of the car, "Where are we going?"

"We're goin' to the park!" Emma screeched, her arms flapping up and down with her excitement.

Sam turned his head sharply as he straightened up, looking at Dean with raised eyebrows. "Really? When did you decide this?"

"When _you_ weren't here to back me up this morning!" his brother shot back accusatorily, " _Your_ _niece_ has been relentless with those puppy-dog eyes she inherited from you, Sam. She informed me that she absolutely _had_ to go to the park this morning since she and Alex had the _best time ever_ with the flowers, and the butterflies, and Dorothy…"

"Dorothy?"

"…therefore, if I didn't want to treat her the way _Vernon Dursley treats Harry_ , I had no choice but to take her back today!"

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, giving Sam a scathing glare. His brother cocked his head to the side, his face remaining neutral which just served to irritate Dean even more.

"You're the parent here, Dean, remember?" Sam remarked condescendingly, "You _could_ have said 'no'….."

"She had the eyes, Sam."

The younger Winchester rolled _his_ eyes. "Look, it was never going to be easy putting this particular cat back into the bag, anyway. She's a kid, Dean. She needs to be outside, experiencing nature and interacting with other people…."

"Don't you think I know that?" Dean said dismissively, "Duh!"

Sam didn't look particularly convinced and tried to state his case again. "She's aging faster every day and with her other abilities are coming in, she needs to start learning how to socialise with other kids….?"

"And I get that, Sam!" Dean insisted, "but that's not the problem here! The _problem_ is that you took my sweet, Batman-loving baby girl, and turned her into a _tween_ that uses Harry Potter logic to win arguments with me! It's like the apocalypse all over again!"

Sam's resulting bitch-face reflected his feelings on the matter. Honestly, it was times like these that he cursed the universe for making him the only adult in charge of two impulsive children and one overgrown man-baby.

"What are you talking about?" Emma whined, impatiently, "Can we go, Daddy? Please?"

"Yeah baby." Dean gave his brother one more glare and then said, "Get in the car, Sam."

"And why am I going on this little expedition?" Sam asked, closing Emma's door and moving towards the front passenger seat.

"Because you need all the help you can get with the ladies, Samuel, and having a beautiful, spirited little girl in the company of a semi-passable, yet dorky-looking giant like yourself, may be just the opening you need!"

"Uh huh. While I appreciate your _generous_ spirit, I'm pretty sure that Em's gonna want you to stick around and play with her. What are _you_ gonna be doin' while the ladies are checking me out?"

"Oh, I won't be goin' anywhere. My milkshake brings all the girls to the yard, Sammy. Emma and I'll reel 'em in for you, then it'll be up to you to 'stick the landing,' if you catch my drift."

Sam massaged his forehead as he counted from one to ten and then to twenty. "Mixed metaphors aside, please try to remember that you're the father of a little girl now. You might consider re-evaluating your approach with women…"

"Oh I know, Sam, and that's why I'm gonna leave all the heavy lifting to you. Besides," Dean's voice got soft, "I've got a girl I'm interested in right now and I'm not looking to mess that up. _You_ on the other hand- when was the last time you got, uh, some 'play time' of your own? Was it that waitress from the roadhouse….what was her name? Pandora? Penny?"

"Piper." Sam was no longer even remotely amused by this conversation, "Thanks for your interest but that's none of your business. Maybe you'll remember _that_ when I ask you how things are going with you and Sophie…."

"Sam…"

"I mean, why hasn't she visited yet, Dean?"

"Sam…"

"Have you talked to her about Emma ye…?"

"Alright!" Dean shouted, his face turning red as his annoying brother smiled smugly, "Point's made, smartass. Just get in the car!"

Ten minutes later, they were out on the road heading to the park. Dean cranked up the Aerosmith so there couldn't be much conversation just like Sam knew he would. Frankly, he was glad for the reprieve because he had an overwhelming need to replay his morning excursion in his mind. He hadn't _really_ been doing research. Instead, he'd driven an hour out of Lebanon to meet Amelia in Hastings, Nebraska at a Mom and Pop diner just outside the city limits.

She was already seated when he arrived, her eyes bright with excitement when she saw him walk through the door. They'd ordered coffee while they made small talk about the drive. Amelia had insisted that they meet in 'neutral territory,' where there were no outside influences to sway their decisions. Sam had been a little uneasy about her request at first but, given that they were there to talk about a possible future together, he supposed it was understandable. When she suggested that they order breakfast too, Sam indulged her delay tactics because he could see that she was working up the nerve to something. By the time the waitress had delivered their eggs, Amelia looked more determined than ever. Neither actually touched their plates as she began her impassioned plea.

She'd been living under a 'cloud of delusion,' as she put it, for far too long, unhappy from the moment she'd gone back to Don all those years ago. Though he'd tried to feign obliviousness, her husband had to have known that it was all just a sham; things were long over between them. Amelia wished she'd had the strength to leave him then, but her heart had been shattered into a million pieces when she lost Sam, and she knew she wasn't in the right frame of mind to be making life-changing decisions. Worse, she'd been too much of a coward to be alone.

So, she'd stayed in the marriage, resigned to sleepwalking through the rest of her life until one day she'd come to visit a friend in Kansas and had spotted that familiar face across a warehouse. Not only did her world turn to colour in that instant, but she felt able to finally breathe again. The feeling had been intoxicating and it had taken all of her willpower to let Sam go that day. She'd thought of nothing else since, taking their time apart to _truly_ re-evaluate everything. It hadn't taken long. She'd officially left Don, moving out of their house in Kermit and coming to stay with her friend in Shawnee to be closer to Sam. Then she'd contacted him to arrange their meeting this morning because, as she'd put it, she wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

Sam's feeble protestations that it was too soon, that the situation was too raw for her to jump straight into another relationship, were summarily shut down. She'd humour him by taking it slow to begin with, if that's what he wanted, but they _were_ going to be exploring their connection…and _each other_ starting _now,_ because she wasn't taking no for an answer. She'd then launched into quite explicit detail as to what "exploring each other" actually meant in practical terms. The rather assertive declaration had surprised Sam just a little because it really wasn't like her, but he couldn't deny the sentiment and frankly, it turned him on.

The waitress had come back to check on them then, and Amelia had abruptly switched the subject to safer, more neutral topics- his work, his brother and his niece. She'd asked a lot about Emma- about how she was fitting in living with the two of them, what she liked to do, how he felt about becoming an uncle. Then she asked if he had any new pictures of her and he could see the curiosity burning in her eyes. He'd known that his previous explanation of phone trouble had been lame at best and Amelia was a smart woman. But he wasn't ready to give up all his secrets yet. No matter how much they both clearly wanted it, bringing her _fully_ into this life was something he was going to have to consider more fully. An explanation about Emma was way down the list of all the things he'd have to do to get this to work. She sensed his reluctance and backed down before he had to try to stammer his way into a lie or changing the subject himself. Instead, her eyes had gotten soft and she'd reached for his hand, squeezing it gently.

"It's all right, Sam," she'd murmured, her eyes molten and full of promise, "Even though we….. _know_ each other, this is all new again. It's gonna take a little time to get back there but I'm more than willing to do _whatever_ it takes to remind you…"

Suddenly losing their interest in food, they'd spent the next fifteen minutes getting hot and heavy in her car. When Sam had started using his brain again, he'd managed to break away from her, promising to call her with plans for their next meeting. She'd insisted strongly that next time, he should come prepared to stay the night. It'd had taken everything he'd had to head back to Lebanon.

"…..Yeah baby girl, you can definitely go see the butterflies again after the playground but your Uncle Sammy is gonna take you, cause he's pretty and delicate just like they are…they're his spirit animal!"

Dean was grinning from ear to ear, giving him some side eye. Sam chose not to rise to the bait, though he agreed to take Emma. He could see in the rear-view mirror that she was looking thoughtfully between him and her Dad.

"What is it, hunny?" Sam asked her, turning back in his seat to look at her.

"Daddy's pretty too, does that mean that butterflies are his patronus?"

Sam's head whipped around as he stared at Dean with a flabbergasted look on his face.

"What?" Dean said, his voice much quieter and less cocky.

"How does she know about patronuses?" Sam asked, his tone suggesting that he already knew the answer.

"I don't understand the question."

"Patronuses aren't mentioned until the third book. You only started reading them last night…."

"Yeah…."

"Are you telling me you stayed up late enough to read the _first three books_? What time did Emma get to bed last night?"

"Haven't you been on my back about reading those dumb books since you started fangirling about them years ago? Well, I did what you asked so stop bitc….complaining about it." Dean glanced at Emma in the rear-view mirror. She was staring back at him with rapt attention.

"You're a real…."

"And we're here, Winchesters!" Dean said brightly, pulling into the parking area.

Sam scowled at his brother but didn't say anything else. If Dean wanted to pretend that he'd read three books in one night only for his daughter's amusement, he wouldn't disabuse him of the delusion. What he _would_ do later, is take him to task for being an ass and involving Em in the process. Now, he was going to have some fun with his niece.

* * *

They'd only been there for thirty minutes but it was long enough to see that they'd made a grievous error by keeping her secluded in the Bunker. She'd been so excited, bordering on manic since they'd arrived. Zigzagging all over the park, playing hostess as she took them to all the places she'd explored with Alex, explaining what they were seeing even though they were right there with her. It was cute and sweet and it made both men more determined than ever to ensure that she actually enjoy whatever childhood she had left. Dean had already started formulating a plan as to how he might do that but he was pretty sure neither his brother or Claire were going to be happy about it.

Emma ran back to them, her face lit up with a huge grin as she pointed towards the Kiddie Train that took kids on a tour of the Park. She hadn't gotten the chance to ride it yet so it was on her must-do list for this trip. Dean understood the appeal but was rather reluctant to let her go off since she wouldn't be within a few feet of them at all times. She began to plead, her puppy dog eyes on, full blast. Dean turned to glare at Sam, muttering about how it was his fault even as he turned back to her, nodding.

With a whoop and a little dance, she dashed off to the 'train station' where a few other kids were waiting to board, their parents standing with them. Dean and Sam nodded politely to the other adults when they went to join the line. It only took a few minutes before the colourful train pulled up, the driver making a big production of letting off his 'passengers' who ran happily into the arms of their parents.

"All aboard!" he shouted with a grin, when the last of the kids had gotten off.

Emma looked up at her Dad and Uncle with another huge grin and dashed forward to get to the front.

"Emma!" Dean called, only a touch of censure in his voice. He couldn't actually blame her for being excited, unable to contain herself in this new situation or for not knowing the social mores, like lining up, that she'd never been taught.

She looked back at him innocently as he beckoned her over with a finger. With a slightly annoyed look, she trotted back to him.

"Daddy," she whined, "I wanna go on the train!"

"And you will, hunny, but we're in a line and you gotta wait your turn 'til we get up to the front, okay?" Dean replied, ruffling her hair and holding onto her shoulders as they kept moving steadily to along.

Emma jiggled like she had St. Vitus Dance, but in truth it only took about a minute before it was her turn. She turned to give Dean a quick hug and then moved to board. She was suddenly thrown forward, her face almost slamming into the side of one of the carriages when an older boy, likely around eleven years old, came barrelling past her to push his way to a seat.

"Baby, are you alright?" Dean asked, just managing to catch and right her before she took a header into the side of the train.

Emma looked up tearfully, clearly more frightened than hurt. After he was satisfied that she was okay, he turned slowly to look at the boy. The kid had a good thirty pounds on Emma and was currently looking at her from his seat and snickering. Sam didn't really need to see the storm brewing in his brother's eyes to know what his next move would be. In a panic, he grabbed Dean's arm and held him back, not quite sure that he wouldn't pull out his gun and blow the kid away.

"Dean!" he shouted, physically blocking his brother's path to the boy, "He's a kid! Calm down!"

"Get out of my way!" he growled, the images of Emma lying dead with her head split open on the concrete flitting around his head making him see red.

"What the hell do you think you're gonna do here? Beat the shit out of some ten year old in front of all these people?" Sam hissed, practically twisting Dean's arm as he spoke, "Get a grip!"

He shoved Dean none too gently, making him back away. A few people stared at the exchange with varying degrees of interest, outrage and approval. Dean let himself be herded back to Emma, who was staring up at her father's face with a similar look of outrage, despite the tears that were rolling down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry!" A harried female voice came from behind them, as a woman carrying a little girl and holding onto a toddler's hand came up behind them. "Is your daughter okay? My son…I'm so embarrassed….Ritter! Get off that train, right now!"

Sam took one look at the woman and immediately felt a wave of sympathy for her. She was clearly overwhelmed and if the way _Ritter_ was ignoring her was any indication, her 'dear little brat' was running her ragged.

Dean's eyes were hard as he assessed the woman though it was obvious, to Sam at least, that his fury had been tamped down from nuclear to volcanic. He didn't say a word but slowly looked back at the boy and stared wordlessly. Clearly the power of the Winchester Glare was something passed down from generation to generation. This particular iteration of 'the look' was one he'd seen rarely on John Winchester's face but when he did, it meant comply or expect to get hurt- badly. Apparently, Ritter wasn't as dumb as he looked. The grin on his face dropped almost immediately when he locked eyes with Dean, and he scrambled out of the train to his mother. His eyes were wide as he hid behind her, no longer bold enough to even look in Dean's direction.

"I'm so sorry he pushed….?"

"Emma," Sam replied, glancing at Dean who hadn't stopped staring at the boy, "Hi, my name is Sam. This is my brother Dean and Emma's my niece. Come here, honey."

Emma walked over to stand in front of Sam, but she just kept glancing up at Dean. The woman introduced herself as Jean, and her other children as Connor and Ellie. She and Sam talked for a bit and then, as the driver was announcing their departure in the next two minutes, she pulled Ritter forward and told him to apologise. He did, his voice barely audible as he muttered the word 'sorry.' Sam shook his head slightly. Dean had yet to make a sound, but he did put his hand on Em's shoulder. She looked up at him when he squeezed her gently. Just like him, she remained silent but _did_ nod her acknowledgement. Sam tried to get Emma to speak but she just turned away from Ritter and hugged Dean around the waist. When the driver called his final all aboard, Emma whispered to Dean that she still wanted to go on. Dean helped her get onto the train, even as Jean let Ritter get onto one of the cars at the back. The train moved out and the parents all gradually dispersed. It was a short twenty-minute ride on a slow moving mini-train. Sam figured he could use the time to knock some sense (and manners) into the idiot standing next to him. He waved as Jean corralled her remaining kids away and just managed not to slap Dean upside the head.

"What is wrong with you?" he exclaimed in exasperation, "Do you think intimidating that kid was the appropriate response in this situation…?"

"He could have hurt her Sam," Dean replied simply, sounding deceptively calm. He started walking in the direction the train was heading. Apparently they were going to follow it all the way round the track.

"I know that, but he was probably just excited about the ride and …"

"He's a bully, Sam! He's well on his way to being a first-class dick! No one messes with Emma, least of all a kid named _Ritter_!"

"Did you see the way Emma was watching you?" Sam persisted, aggravated that he wasn't getting through to his hard-headed brother, "She's like a sponge right now, you jackass! She's gonna take all her cues from us! She needs to learn how to relate to other kids and how to deal with conflict resolution. Standing there like a fucking…."

"You make it sound like she's practising for the mock U.N! It's fine, Sammy. Emma needs to learn to stand up to bullies. I'm gonna teach her how to defend herself if she needs to. That brat was lucky I didn't toss him under that train…"

"I see you can't help yourself. You really think this was the same kinda situation as a school yard bully who's beating her up every day for her lunch money?"

"One half of the same coin, Sam and I'm done talking about this. She's my….."

"If the next words out of your mouth are that Em's _your_ kid, you can just go screw yourself!" Sam stopped Dean in his tracks with a hand on his shoulder, "You think for one minute that I'm gonna let you turn into John Winchester, you are delusional! His fucked-up guide to parenting died with him, do you understand me?"

Mentioning their father seemed to snap Dean out of whatever distorted mindset he'd been fixated on. He glared at Sam, his face reddening.

"Don't be an ass," he said trying to hide his embarrassment, "I'm….we're not gonna do that to her- ever!"

"You've gotta be more careful, Dean," Sam said more calmly, "All evidence points to Emma having her mother's strength. She has to learn restraint or she might seriously hurt someone…"

"Yeah, okay, Sammy, I get it!"

"Do you?"

"Yes…damn it!" Dean realised that the train had gotten away from them, and had already turned round a bend heading towards the windmill.

He started to jog, trying to catch up as Sam followed closely behind. They hadn't gotten more than a few feet before they heard the commotion. They paused, glancing at each other in alarm, both having the same thought at the same time.

"Shit!" Dean muttered, and the two hightailed it around the museum building.

What they saw, took a few years off both their lives. Emma, on her knees on the seat, a single hand wrapped around Ritter's throat. The other kids were screaming as were some adults who were nearby. There was one woman in particular who, along with the driver, were just about to try separating the two children. The driver was pulling at Emma's fingers, while the woman was trying to haul Emma back.

The boy was clearly terrified and as Dean arrived, he could clearly see the subtle change about Emma's eyes- the one he'd seen on the Amazons he'd encountered before, although not nearly as pronounced. She was staring intently at Ritter, looking like she was in a trance. She certainly didn't seem to notice the furor going on around her, the crowd of gawking onlookers increasing almost exponentially.

"Get away from her!" Sam shouted to the woman, just beating Dean to the punch, "Emma….Let him go!"

The Samaritan fell back into the crowd while the driver put up his hands in supplication. As for Emma, she seemed oblivious to her audience's presence, the red halo around her eyes deepening as Ritter suddenly started clutching at his throat. Kneeling on the seat had given her a slight height advantage, enough to allow her to raise him about an inch off the floor,

" _Emma Winchester_!" The deep boom of Dean's voice actually hushed some of the crowd as he put his hand on his daughter's arm in an attempt to get her attention, "Let him go….right now!"

It took a few moments, but her eyes flicked to Dean, finally with some sign of underlying recognition though she didn't loosen her hold.

"Did you hear me?" His voice had actually gone quieter, his eyes flashing dangerously, " _Let. Him. Go_!"

When her eyes narrowed again, the redness deepening ever so slightly, he reached into the compartment and delivered a stinging smack to her seat, "Now!"

It had the desired effect though some of the crowd were quick to offer their objections. Emma dropped her hand and Dean snatched her up and into his arms as Sam reached in for Ritter. The boy was crying and shivering in fear, as Sam hugged the boy, trying to reassure him that he would be all right. A few seconds later, they saw the crowd part and Jean came rushing through, dragging Ritter away from Sam and screaming at him to get away from her son. He tried to calm her down but unsurprisingly, she wasn't interested in his attempts to make peace.

In the meantime, Dean had taken Emma a little ways from the train, hugging her as she sobbed from the shock of the situation. Sam made his way over to them, arguing with the driver as he shouted at them about keeping "that crazy kid away from the others." There were shouts of "Bitch" and "Psycho" and other choice words being offered by the crowd and when Dean noticed a policeman making his way over to the area, a few agitated bystanders pointing them out, he knew it was time for them to leave.

He hefted Emma higher in his arms and turned away from the ever burgeoning crowd. Sam followed quickly after them, he too having tagged the cop immediately. This was trouble they really didn't need and the fact that people kept chasing after them, making it easy for the policeman and now his partner, to find them, was making the possibility of a clean get away unlikely.

"How're we going to get out of here?" he hissed at Dean, who grunted inaudibly back at him. Clearly both were at a loss as to what to do.

One moment they were almost surrounded by angry onlookers and the next there was a blinding flash of light and they were alone. They stopped and looked around stunned only to hear the flutter of wings beside them.

"Dean," the deep voice of Castiel was suddenly beside them, "We need to leave."

"Cass?" Sam flinched in surprise, "What…where did you come from?"

"I came to find you because I need your help. It seemed like you could use mine."

"Where did everyone go?" Dean asked, trying to settle Emma. Castiel's sudden appearance had startled her even more and she had begun squirming in his arms.

"It would have taken too long to wipe each individual's memory of your….Emma so I did it all at once. The members of your angry mob have been sent back to their homes with no memory of their time in the Park. Now, I need your help. Perhaps we can…." Castiel paused, glancing first at Emma who was now sufficiently calm that she was staring back at him. His eyes moved away from her as he scanned their surroundings.

"What is it Cass?" Dean asked, hyperaware now and instantly worried. If there was going to be trouble, he had to get his daughter out of there.

Emma started to squirm vigorously, making it particularly difficult to hold onto her.

"Em, honey, you gotta stop moving. You're gonna fall…."

"Something's not right….we need to leave." Castiel touched both Sam and Dean's foreheads and they were suddenly back in the Map Room of the Bunker.

"God, Cass!" Dean shouted, as he practically juggled Emma. He'd almost dropped her during the unexpected trip, "Warn us next time!"

"I _did_ tell you that we had to go….," Cass' eyebrows knitted together.

"Yeah, at the same time that you were teleporting us here," Sam replied, his heart beating out of his chest.

"I've gotta go back and get the Impala," Dean said, putting Emma down in front of his brother.

Cass disappeared and Dean cursed under his breath.

"What the hell is going on with…?"

"Oh my God!" Claire shouted, uncocking the gun in her hand as she blew out a huge breath, "I thought you were those British guys….."

"What the hell are you doing with that gun?" Dean shouted, his anger more to do with being so off kilter and out of control. He hated that.

"I was thinking that I was gonna blow away whoever had just burst in here!" she shouted, just as annoyed with him. To Sam she said, "What's going on?"

"We…"

His answer was interrupted by Castiel's reappearance. He dropped the Impala's keys on the table.

"Your car is downstairs." His eyes flitted to Claire but he didn't acknowledge her, "Now, as I was saying, I need your help. We can go now…" He moved towards Dean, his hand outstretched.

Dean ducked away from him, exasperation clear on his face.

"Woah!" he said, putting himself in front of his brother and Emma.

His daughter was staring up at Castiel, fear on her face. She wasn't sure what had happened or how they'd gotten back to the Bunker so fast, but her father's friend was scaring her and she wanted to be as far away from him as possible. She took off around the far side of the table, to grab hold of Sam's shirt, hiding behind him as she watched Castiel wide-eyed.

"Cass, I'm gonna need to hear some details before I agree to go anywhere. We've got some problems of our own right now that take priority over…"

" _Nothing_ takes priority over this!" Castiel interrupted, his voice hard, "If the fate of mankind weren't at stake, I wouldn't be wasting my time here!"

Claire inhaled sharply while Dean crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the angel. Sam, feeling that things were about to get ugly, broke the silence by calling Claire over.

"Take Emma," he ordered her simply, his tone brooking no argument.

She nodded silently, scooting past Castiel to take hold of the girl's hand. They disappeared a moment later, Dean watching them from the corner of his eye. As if he'd just been waiting for them to be out of earshot, Dean marched right up to the angel and his voice dropped an octave.

"Don't you ever put my daughter in danger like that again!" he hissed, his anger making him visibly shake, "She could have broken her neck!"

"I thought I just got her _out_ of danger, _Dean_. Now, are you ready to listen? I need to talk to you about Lucifer."

Dean threw up his hands in exasperation. Punching Castiel in the face was just going to result in a broken hand, so he walked away trying to resist the urge.

"Cass," Sam said, attempting to diffuse the situation, "Thank you for getting us out of there but Dean is right. Em's just a little girl and we need to be careful with her, even if she _is_ an Amazon. That's all we're saying."

Cass sighed. It was clear he wasn't going to get anywhere if he didn't acknowledge the creature's well-being. So he tempered his tone and reassured them that he would try to care more in the future.

"Thanks Cass, that's big of you," Dean said sarcastically. In truth, he wanted to get back to Emma and make sure that she was all right, but it was clear that Castiel had no intention of leaving without saying his peace. "Fine, Cass! Tell us what's going on?"

Cass continued as if Dean wasn't ready to banish him at that moment.

"Despite my best efforts, Lucifer is still on the run. W…I've been tracking him across the country but he's stayed one step ahead of me the whole way. Then two days ago, w..I lost track of him back in Los Angeles. Something's different about this time, though. I can practically feel it in the air. Lucifer is up to something big…something terrible, and I need you to help me find him before whatever plan he's made comes to fruition…"

"Hang on, Cass," Sam shook his head, interrupting the angel's pitch, "You keep trying not to say 'we.' Who are you working with?"

Castiel considered lying but decided it was better to be truthful. The situation was desperate right now. Crowley and Rowena's wondrous plan had failed dismally. They'd followed Lucifer to Pennsylvania and from there, he'd led them on a wild goose chase across all seven of the other mid-atlantic states before they'd ended right back where they started- in Los Angeles. The resulting fallout was that almost twenty humans had died and Lucifer had zigzagged through five other vessels along the way. As his last act before heading west, he'd come after _their_ group, obliterating the cheap motel they'd been using as their headquarters. He seemed to have enjoyed the attack immensely, taunting Crowley for his ineptitude, Rowena for her stupidity for coming after him again when he'd killed her so easily the last time, and Castiel, his little brother, for siding with filth against him, and all when they'd just finished working together so _intimately_ to fight Auntie Amara.

He'd also sensed that the trio were harbouring the Angel Tablet and had demanded that they turn it over. When they hadn't complied, Lucifer had attempted to tether them to the building, but Crowley had managed to get them out before it was blown to smithereens. Castiel had managed to take the Tablet with him but they'd lost the Book of the Damned.

The three regrouped, managing to pick up his scent a few days later, so they'd headed back to L.A. They'd arrived too late- an entire family had been slaughtered. To the authorities, it seemed as if the father, a famous movie producer, had killed his family before committing suicide. His burnt out eyes though, suggested an alternative theory. They'd lost track of Lucifer after that.

Now, the consensus amongst the three of them was that they needed help and, given their resilient, cockroach-like abilities i.e. refusal to die (as Rowena had put it), the Winchesters seemed like the logical next port of call. Needless to say, Rowena and Crowley had nominated Castiel to head the recruitment drive. The angel had sought them out immediately, finding them the targets of an angry mob in the Wamego Park. What he could surmise from the furious shouts and jeering, was that the Amazon was the cause of all the commotion. Castiel was hardly surprised. _It_ was barely about nine years old and it was already causing near-death misses for the Winchesters. Once they defeated Lucifer, he was going to dedicate himself to helping Dean see the truth. In the meantime…..

"I've been working with Crowley and Rowena…."

Dean and Sam stared at Castiel and then at each other.

"What the hell, Cass?" Dean sighed, rubbing his forehead suddenly exhausted, "Is that what you've been so busy doing? Why you don't answer my phone calls?"

"Lucifer is on the loose, Dean," the angel replied, sounding like he was struggling for patience, "Our Father is gone, Amara is gone and there are no more archangels left. If you can think of some other just as powerful supernatural beings who are willing to help us, I'll go talk to them instead…"

Sam raised his eyebrows, glancing over at Dean again. Castiel wasn't exactly known for his biting sarcasm and wit.

"And what precisely are you and the two other Amigos wanting from us?"

"How can you not see, Dean? He was leaving us breadcrumbs to blindly trail after him all over the country. Now, suddenly, he goes into hiding? Lucifer _always_ has a plan and whatever it is, it's time is drawing near. We _need_ to get to him before that happens and there is no time to schedule auditions for new members of Team Freewill…."

"You know, for someone asking for favours, you're sure acting like a dick." Dean spat, his temper about to explode again.

"Cass," Sam interjected again, "We might have managed to fight Amara together, but Rowena and Crowley can't be trusted. What about the other angels? What did they say when you talked to them?"

"I haven't involved my brothers and sisters…."

"Why the hell not?" Dean asked in surprise, "They've got just as much reason to help as anyone. Hell has got to be in the middle of a power vacuum right now. Last I heard, the demons didn't know which Master to follow. That means they're an unknown entity. You've gotta know that Crowley will do anything to reclaim his throne and their loyalty, including turning on you and literally selling his mother if he thought it would help his cause…"

"Crowley has already shown good faith by giving me the Angel Tablet…"

"The Angel Tablet?" Sam looked alarmed.

"And what exactly did he want in return for that?" Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

"I gave him the Book of the Damned…."

"You _what_?" Dean's voice was barely a whisper as he dropped his arms and took a measured step forward, "I mustn't have heard you right. I thought you said that you gave the only weapon we probably have against Lucifer to Boris and Natasha?

"Cass, why didn't you come to us?" Sam questioned incredulously, "We could have come up with a plan to get the Tablet back without….."

"..Your stealing it from us!"

"…giving up the book."

"You're missing the point…!"

"No, _you're_ missing the point, Castiel!" Dean said, "You've stolen from us, you've lied to us, and you seem really happy to keep bein' an ass about it. Now, I don't trust you…"

"Dean…" Sam said placatingly, holding up his hands.

"If you need help playing hide and seek with Lucifer, go talk to the other angels, Castiel," Dean said tonelessly, "We're gonna be busy for the foreseeable future."

"Busy?" the angel looked genuinely confused.

"And if you can spare a minute, Cass," Dean said, turning to leave the room, "why don't you think long and hard about some way to get yourself off my shit list so the next time I see you, I won't feel the overwhelming need to banish your ass to the moon!"

His brother left the room, Cass staring after him while Sam sighed heavily.

"Dean! Cass, what's going on? Damn it!"

The angel had disappeared without another word.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 **A/N:** **This is pretty much a part B to Chapter 13 and is dedicated to my fellow Winchester Sisters, Ellen and Amber who share my love of this show and are bad-asses in real life too. To the readers, thanks for staying with me. Enjoy!**

"There was another team… Ellen almost got into a confrontation with the brother…..We didn't have a choice. We had to abort….."

Tina waited with bated breath for Lydia's verdict. She knew how high the stakes were for this mission, and her ramblings were nothing more than an attempt to mitigate whatever punishment she'd copped for being involved in this debacle. Surprisingly, though her glare was so penetrating that Tina could practically feel it piercing her brain, Lydia just dismissed her with a wave of her hand. She'd already gotten a detailed report from the head of the operation, Natalie. Her lieutenant had had the wherewithal to call her from the road, and so most of her anger had already diminished by the time Tina had come grovelling. In truth, Lydia had only given today's attempt a thirty percent chance of working. They'd been watching the Winchesters for a while now and this was the first time that Emma had left the Bunker. There was no telling when they would get another chance, and so they'd had to adapt their original plans on the fly.

Since developing an awareness of her daughter's _re-existence_ , Lydia had become understandably obsessed not only with finding her, but with making the Winchesters pay. When Sam had killed Charlene, and it'd become obvious that Emma had failed, the tribe had made the rare decision to go on the run.

The Amazons were a race of fierce women. Several millennia of their survival had been predicated on the ideals of discipline, strength and pride. Their mission throughout the ages, and even in these modern times, had always been to sustain their way of life through the production and training of each subsequent generation of warriors. There was nothing else- _they_ were nothing else. Their daughters were taught these principles from birth, the whole tribe contributing to their education via physical and mental rituals designed to turn them into soldiers who'd put the good of the whole above all else. There was no place for human delusions like maternal nurturing and love in their world, and there never would be. Emma's catastrophic mission five years ago had left a stain on Lydia's reputation leading to a demotion of her status amongst her fellow Amazons. Training their young might have been a community task, but failure was the individual's cross to bear. It had taken a very long time for her to regain her place among the ranks, having to do innumerable demeaning, physically punishing tasks set by their leader Camilla; a sort of _re-education_ to remind her what it meant to be an Amazon. It had been immensely humbling, painful and…..deserved. She'd deserved every minute of her penance and now, she was all the better for it. She would never be that weak again.

When they'd crossed paths with a group of hunters in Arizona two years ago, the ensuing fight had decimated them and Camilla had been killed. The incident had brought them low, in number and in spirit. Only eight of them remained and Lydia had assumed the leadership of their broken group. They'd gone into hiding since, not even venturing out to find men to help repopulate the tribe. Lydia had found herself desperate to do anything to bring them back to their former glory and this odd sensation…no, _gut feeling_ that her daughter was somehow alive, was the perfect rallying point, the perfect call to arms for her sisters. Revenge against the Winchesters, would be the icing on the cake.

Finding the brothers had actually been much easier than she'd expected. The tribe had come to Kansas and liaised with some of Charlene's contacts in the F.B.I. Office in Kansas City. They managed to trawl through six months' worth of traffic cam footage looking for 1960s Chevrolet Impalas. It had taken five days to narrow the search down to a few counties, and another day or two to find them in Lebanon. They'd been staking out the Bunker ever since, the plan to find a way in while the Winchesters were out on a job. Once Emma was safe, all bets were off. Things hadn't gone to plan though because thus far, the Bunker had proven to be an impenetrable fortress.

As soon as the surveillance team had spotted Emma this morning, Lydia had given Natalie the go ahead. She and the other members, Ellen, Tina and Amber, had followed the Impala to Wamego, hatching an impromptu plan to grab the girl while avoiding any direct confrontation with the Winchesters if possible. There was no point in tipping them off if they didn't have a clear shot at Emma and more importantly, they couldn't let her get hurt in any subsequent crossfire. The problem was that the Winchesters hadn't let the girl out of their sight for even a minute and the whole expedition was turning into a colossal bust.

Having taken a tactical position at the top of the Old Dutch Windmill, Natalie was running point on the mission. She'd been watching the brothers and Emma traipsing around the Park for the last few hours, becoming increasingly frustrated with the lack of progress. Ellen and Amber were on the ground, following the trio at a distance, trying to blend in. When their subjects had moved towards the kiddie train station, Natalie could feel that their luck was changing. The ride around the track was a rather short one, but it was routed through a copse of trees on the west side of the park. From what she'd seen, the parents always waited back at the Station so it was possible that Emma could be hidden and Winchester-free for a few minutes. Natalie ordered her soldiers to fall back to those trees beyond the library to await her signal. She watched the exchange with the worthless male child with rapt attention, the subsequent argument between the Winchester brothers providing just the distraction they needed; Natalie told the women to get ready to move.

Conveniently, their subject had chosen a seat at the back of the train. Ellen and Amber were preparing to intercept their target when Emma suddenly began climbing over the seats, all the way to the front car. With a look of pure hatred on her face, she slammed her fist into the back of the bully's head. He turned around with a pained cry, and she immediately grabbed him by the throat, staring him down and never uttering a word. It was a perfect imitation of the Winchester sire's earlier intimidation of the boy. The other children started screaming, some of them scrambling to get away while the conductor shouted at Emma to let the boy go.

All three women were impressed with her fighting spirit….her fire. Despite spending some of her most formative years (really days) in the hands of their enemies, Emma was clearly still one of the tribe. It was why Lydia's plans for her daughter were so vital. They needed to get her back before any more damage could be done. They'd have to deprogram her first, of course, scrubbing away all of the emotional attachments that she'd formed to her sperm donor. Then, with the proper intensive education, she'd learn about her people's proud history and beliefs- the very tenets of their civilization. She needed to be reminded of the inferiority of her human DNA. Once her loyalty was re-secured, they'd move onto combat training, ensuring that she was focused, cold-blooded and deadly. She'd be the perfect Trojan Horse to send back to the welcoming arms of the Winchesters who'd never see her betrayal coming. She would finally be able to fulfil her destiny….ridding the world of her infuriating father. As added bonuses, they'd start repopulating the tribe by breeding with the brother before killing him, and then they'd take the Winchester fortress as their own.

Emma's ill-timed act of revenge, though admirable, still threatened to put the whole plan in serious jeopardy. The conductor had stopped the train well before the planned extraction point because of the fracas and now Emma's offensive was out in the open and beginning to attract attention. Even worse, it seemed they weren't alone.

Natalie had only just given them the go ahead to move in on the train when Amber and Ellen were attacked from behind by a group of men wearing tactical gear. Amber was tackled near the tree-line by three of them, while Ellen, hearing Amber's shout of surprise, barely had time to turn around before the probes of a Taser entered her torso. Amber went down like a ton of bricks, but Ellen only dropped to one knee, furiously yanking the probes out as the fourth man, began to reload. She rushed towards him, slamming her fist into his face. Blood spurted immediately from his smashed nose as he screamed and stumbled backwards a few steps, blinded by pain and a charging Ellen who slammed her fist into his nose again. He dropped to the ground immediately, crawling away from her while she reached down and twisted his neck. He died instantly. She quickly turned her attention to Amber who was fighting off the three attempting to restrain her. Ellen rushed over, tackling one of them. They scrabbled on the grass for a while, but he was no match for her. Ellen snapped his neck too, just in time to see Amber subduing the last of the men who was begging for his life. She hit him on the back of the head with a rock and he fell to the ground, immobile but still alive. The two women looked around; the whole battle had thankfully been well hidden by the dense thicket of oak trees.

"Natalie?" Amber coughed into her headset, trying to catch her breath, "Come in, Natalie."

"I'm here!" their leader shouted frantically, "What happened? I lost contact with you!"

"We're still in the grove at the North end of the Park. Four hostiles- three dead, the other out and being secured as we speak. At least one of them had an accent- British, maybe. We're gonna need 'clean-up'. Any idea who the hell they are?"

"No, but I'll put in the call," Natalie paused as she sent a text. "Daphne and the crew are on the way. You've got to get Emma! Our British friends may have brought more back up and the Winchesters are still distracted. We may not get another chance! Go! Now!"

Amber stayed behind to wait for the 'cleaners' and Ellen took off round the lake. Directed by Natalie, she encountered Emma in the middle of her attack on Ritter. She tried to get Emma to let go of the boy but then the Winchesters showed up and Ellen had had to retreat or risk exposing herself to the brother. Natalie knowing there was no way to retrieve the situation, called for her two warriors to abort and head for the rendezvous point. When Ellen caught up with them back at the van, the 'cleaners' had already made off with the three dead attackers while the fourth, now semi-conscious, was tied up in the back with Natalie guarding over him.

Their leader pulled out her phone with some apprehension and dialled Lydia's number, knowing it would be better if news of this disaster came straight from her. The only positive was that the Winchesters were still in the dark about the tribe, meaning that their plans were still feasible. As important, was the need to find out as much as possible about these new players on the board. If they were after the brothers because they were hunters, it was even _more_ vital that they rescue Emma as soon as possible. The tribe had clearly underestimated this situation, a mistake they couldn't afford to make again.

* * *

"Did you check on Emma and Claire?" Sam asked, as he accepted the beer from his brother. Dean had already finished two cans and was on to his third. He had a mixture of worry, anger and fear in his eyes that Sam found very unsettling. This was Dean at his most vulnerable and therefore, his most dangerous. Emma's continued aging, combined with the sudden emergence of her Amazonian traits, had already substantially frayed Dean's control. The ongoing antagonism between he and Castiel though, with the angel's glaring dislike of Emma and his apathy towards seemingly _everything_ , was surely going to make Dean go ballistic.

"Yeah," Dean said, not making eye contact at all as he sculled the remaining contents of his beer, "Emma cried herself out. Fell asleep as soon as I tucked her in. I've got the baby monitor with me in case she has a nightmare."

"Dean," Sam's voice was quiet and filled with empathy, "We're going to get through this…all of it. Emma, Claire, Cass…"

"Don't mention that feathered Judas' name to me right now." Dean opened yet another beer and chugged a long pull. "Whenever he gets into shit like this, we get sucked into the vortex, and barely escape with our lives while we save his butt…"

Sam cleared his throat, prepared for Dean to bite his head off with his next statement. "The means might be screwed up, but he's not wrong about Lucifer. You remember what having him loose on Earth was like, right? None of us can stop him on our own and I'm telling you now, there's no way I'm gonna survive jumping into that Cage again!"

"Don't be an ass, Sam," Dean said dismissively, sculling the rest of the can, "I'd sooner see the world burn than have you go through that again."

Sam raised his eyebrows, surprised at Dean's rather calm reply. He sat down across from his brother with a troubled sigh. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. He waited a beat before he asked, "What are we going to do?"

Dean glanced over at him and shook his head, "Honestly, I don't know. What I _do_ know is that I've got a little girl crying herself to sleep because, let's be honest, even with Chuck's assurances, all signs point to her going homicidal on me. I won't let that happen, Sam, I can't. You, me and Claire- we've gotta dedicate ourselves to beating this. I've already reached out on the Hunter Network and I'm waiting to hear back. Maybe if we can track down the Amazons, we can force them to tell us if there's any way to stop this thing. I'll search the Bunker and you get online- see if you can find anything in the Lore. There _has_ to be something!"

"And what about Lucifer?"

" _Lucifer_ is still gonna be there, Sam. That's pretty much a guarantee. Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys are on it. Hopefully, by the time we find something to help Emma, they'll have gotten their act together….."

"You _really_ think that's the way to go?" Sam asked, his tone clearly doubtful.

"Of course not, but that's what we're gonna do. Emma is the priority. 'Til we fix this, I don't care about anything else."

Sam guilt spiked hearing the underlying anguish in his brother's voice. Meeting with Amelia had been wonderful but selfish. Dean was holding off on own his budding relationship with Sadie because there were too many complications right now. As much as he didn't want to, Sam knew he was going to have to do the same.

"You're right, Dean," his voice quiet, "Helping Emma is all that matters now."

* * *

"Stokely," Toni said, her voice shaky as she tried to remain calm, "How in the hell did you lose track of four of your men?"

Her doubts about the man's intelligence and competence were well founded, it seemed. The more he droned on about his complete and utter ineptitude, the more she decided she was going to have to make 'a change'. The Council was breathing down her neck about her lack of progress on bringing American hunters to heel and on eliminating the ongoing threat posed by the Winchesters. She knew from her spies that Mick had returned to England shortly after he'd attempted to strongarm her onto that plane. She had no doubt that he'd been filling the heads of any and every one in the Organisation about her naivete and ineffectual leadership. Toni couldn't really deny that she hadn't been helping him prove his case. While the closest of her lieutenants- Jeremy, Rachael and now, and still surprisingly Ketch, were dependable, the same couldn't be said of the others. It seemed like she'd been the victim of sabotage, being saddled with the Organisation's D-Team. She _needed_ to score a win, and as soon as she satisfied her curiosity by meeting with Mary Winchester, she'd send Ketch down to Kansas to clean up after Stokely… and then _dispose_ of Stokely. It would send a clear message to the rest of her people that she demanded results or they would pay the price.

This fiasco wasn't the only situation causing her concern. Rachael's attempt at manipulating Sam Winchester was going much more slowly than she'd anticipated. Though he was clearly hooked, he was also not a fool, keeping details about the girl close to his chest. Whatever the overgrown boy scouts were hiding was significant enough to have at least one other interested party following them. According to Stokely, they'd discovered an all-female team closely tailing the Winchesters to the park, seemingly with a particular interest in the girl. He'd been ordered to intercept and detain them by Jeremy, the possibility that Mick might be behind this second team a real possibility. If Davies thought for one minute that he'd be scoring brownie points with the Council by honing in on Toni's plans for the Winchesters, he was sorely mistaken. The girl was the equivalent of the Holy Grail. Whoever controlled Dean Winchester's child, owned the man himself.

Toni had her own plans for the girl, of course, but with this new development, she'd have to move up her timeline. She'd actually been waiting on a prospective ace-in-the-hole before enacting them; it or rather _she_ , was driving her way cross country right now.

Mary Winchester had refused all offers to be flown to New York, stating that she would find her own way there. Unlike her sons, the matriarch was shrewd enough to know that Toni had been having her followed since their first encounter in that storm cellar in Missouri. She'd actually given them the slip several times along the way, though they always managed to pick up her trail. Toni didn't doubt that she was toying with them. Her reputation as a skilled hunter was apparently well earned, but more surprising were the reports of Mary's estrangement from her sons. The woman was completely unpredictable, and it made her an unknown entity in Toni's battle for America. Lady Bevell had to wait to see where Mother Winchester stood because, if their ideologies aligned at all, Toni might have found herself not only a formidable soldier, but also a wonderful trophy to dangle in the face of all her detractors.

Jeremy entered her office just as she was really beginning to tire of Stokely's pathetic excuses.

"Quiet, Stokely!" she said, pulling the phone away from her ear.

"Mary Winchester has just arrived at the house but there's been a compli…."

Toni shook her head, indicating that he should be quiet as she went back to her call.

"We need to find out all we can about this new threat, Stokely. Clearly, we're not the only ones after the Winchester spawn so we need to step up our offensive in Kansas. Given your stupidity, I'm going to send you some help- Mr. Ketch will be there tonight. He'll capture one of these women to bring back to headquarters and he'll also help you round up your…strays. I hope for your sake that none of them have loose lips, because if they've given away compromising information to this unknown enemy, you'll be joining them in the afterlife. Last chance, Stokely. Don't disappoint me again!"

She ended the call and dropped her phone on the table.

"Has Rachael called with the time for her next meeting with Sam Winchester?" she turned to Jeremy, her tone rife with frustration.

"She got a text…..he's thinking about her- that's all he said. Maybe they're closing ranks after what happened today. There's really no way to know when he'll reach out again, but the shapeshifter feels it's just a matter of time…"

"Don't, Jeremy," she waved her hand dismissively, "I've told you that Rachael is a part of this team and I expect you treat her as such. I am neither your mother nor your negotiator, so I don't want to play mediator between you two again. I have enough to worry about without the two of you acting like squabbling children so…Work. It. Out!"

"Yes, Lady Bevell, of course," he replied insincerely, "Shall I bring her in?"

Toni rolled her eyes. "Yes."

A few moments later, Mary Winchester walked in accompanied by three heavily armed guards. Her eyes quickly scanned the room, no doubt searching for potential threats. Finally, her cold gaze fell onto Toni and her lip curled.

"Lady Marmalade, wasn't it?" she deadpanned.

"Well, there's no doubt at all that you're the older one's mother. You speak before your brain can catch up with the situation you're in."

"And what situation is that?"

"You are here on my sufferance, _Mary_ , surrounded by dozens of my men. While I admire that wholly foolhardy Winchester grit, it's rather idiotic to antagonise me when I have yet to hear why you decided to accept my invitation…"

"All that may be true, _Toni_ , but I made it clear to Ketch that I'd agree to see you on _my_ terms…." Mary paused, a grim smile on her face, "I just might not have shared _all_ of those with you. I mean, surely you didn't think I would just walk in here without a little insurance?"

Toni chuckled. "And what would that be, Mary? As much as your reputation precedes you, I don't think you'll be able to make it past my men if you try anything."

Mary smirked, opening her jacket slowly as the guards immediately trained their guns on her. She slowly pulled out what looked like a laser pointer, her hand on the push button.

"Let's just say that I have an offer you won't want to refuse, and I've ensured that everyone plays nice while we discuss it. I've planted a few well-hidden explosive devices all around this compound."

Toni laughed outright, highly amused by this woman's ridiculous bluff. "And when would you have gotten a chance to do that, Mrs. Winchester?"

"Didn't your man over there tell you that the 'shadows' you've had following me lost track of me a few days ago? Or maybe he can confirm that you finally received your delayed shipment of weapons' storage lockers yesterday?"

Jeremy looked startled for a minute before nodding. "I was trying to tell you…"

"…And would I also be correct in assuming that those lockers are now scattered all over this lovely compound?" Mary interrupted, her eyes boring into Toni's.

Lady Bevell's expression didn't change. She wouldn't show weakness to a Winchester, but her anger both at being played and at her security for their incompetence, was making her seethe on the inside. It was _definitely_ time to start cleaning house.

"Jesus!" Jeremy exclaimed in alarm, "Rogers, gather as many men as you can and track down…"

"Waste of time," Mary said, pushing the button, "I've just primed the charges. Anything happens to me and I let go of this…" she shook the object, "the whole place goes up like it's the Fourth of July…"

"All right, enough! I don't have the patience for all this childish posturing. Say what you came here to say or get out!"

Mary nodded her acknowledgement and then took a seat in one of the two ornate chairs situated in front of the large oak desk.

"I'll get right to the point then. I need you to kill my grand-daughter….."

Only a slight widening of Lady Bevell's eyes betrayed her utter shock. She remained silent as she waited for the woman to finish.

"I can't do it- I won't have her blood on my hands….but _you_ can."

"And why would you want to kill your son's child?" Toni laughed incredulously, "Are you angry that your triumphant return from the hereafter has been upstaged by your son's little bastard monster-princess?"

"So, you know what she is, then?"

"Of course," Toni bluffed, her eyes involuntarily flicking to Jeremy.

"Then you understand why I have to do this. I may be too late to be their mother, but my sons still need my protection, even if it's from themselves. _Emma_ is a little Amazonian cancer that needs to be carved out of Dean's life _now_ before she grows big enough to hurt him….."

Toni turned away, her mind spinning with the revelation. An Amazon! The Organisation knew that they existed, of course, but they'd never managed to capture even a glimpse of one. If what Mary was saying was true, and there was no reason to doubt that it would be, Emma Winchester would grow up to be a preternaturally strong, murderous hybrid. Under the right circumstances, she could manipulate the girl's 'human half,' persuading her to use her considerable gifts for Toni's cause.

"So, let me get this straight. You expect me to believe that _Mary Winchester_ has broken the modus operandi that governs all idiotic Winchester behaviour and _not_ put family first? You'd risk having Dean _hating_ you and _hunting_ you down, for not only killing his daughter, but for siding with the people who kidnapped and tortured his brother?"

"That's what I'm saying."

"I can empathise with your dilemma, of course," Toni said, trying to tamp down her glee, "but I find it _very_ hard to believe you. Besides, what would I get out of it?"

Mary sighed, wanting to be done with this conversation and this place. "I may just be a relic of a previous time, but in this business, killing the monster has always been the _only_ priority. Look, given your pathological obsession with my family, I'm sure you already know that my husband wasn't born into hunting like I was. When Azazael killed me, John became angry and so full of hate that he subjected my boys to a life filled with bitterness and revenge. If they'd grown up with _my_ family, they would've learned to keep the emotion out of it. It's simple, really. In the fight against the supernatural, it's _us_ versus _them_. That hasn't changed in thirty-three years. I can recognise that ethic in you…in _your_ modus operandi. I don't _want_ to hurt my boys, but this will keep them alive. I'll deal with the fallout later."

"And what are you offering in return?"

"Me."

Toni laughed in genuine amusement. "I know you _were_ good, Mary but while Mr. Ketch has nothing but praise for your talents and professionalism, he doesn't have my high standards. As I've said, I have dozens of ….."

Suddenly, Mary stood up and spun around, a gun appearing in her hand as if from thin air. Before Toni could even cry out in shock, she had shot each of the three guards before they'd even had a chance to react. She lowered her arm and turned back to see Toni and Jeremy both breathing heavily, similar looks of fear and astonishment on their faces.

"Looks like you've got fewer men than you thought," Mary said smugly, putting the gun away, "I knew that Ketch was following me weeks ago. At first, I found it annoying and I planned on killing him, but then I realised that he was offering me an opportunity- a way for me achieve everything I wanted. I figured we could meet and come to some mutual agreement. You kill the _child_ and I help you take out every last, supernatural creature in this country. I guarantee that I'm worth more than any ten of your men combined. As an added incentive, I'll use my reputation to get other hunters to join you and adopt whatever philosophy you want."

"And your sons?" Toni wheezed, finally catching her breath, "What about Dean and Sam?"

"You leave them to me. It won't get that far, but they'll fall in line or suffer the consequences." Mary's eyes were devoid of any feeling as she stalked over to Toni, their faces just inches apart.

"Do we have a deal, Lady Bevell?"

Toni grasped Mary's outstretched hand. "Yes, Mrs. Winchester, we have a deal."

* * *

"Daddy?"

Dean turned over in bed, wrestling with the last vestiges of sleep.

" _Daddy?_ "

"Emma?" he replied, his voice soft, "What is it, sweetheart?"

"It happened again, Dad!"

The voice, different though not unfamiliar, cut through the fog. Dean's eyes flew open as he sat up quickly. 'Emma' stood there, tears in her eyes as she stared forlornly at him. She had grown at least another two inches and maybe was two to three years older. There was a slight maturing of her features, portending the young woman she would become.

"Come here, baby."

He opened his arms and she flew into them, clinging to him tightly and almost strangling him in the process. He didn't complain though. He understood her pain, her desperation and her fear. Dean was losing his daughter again and he wasn't sure he'd survive it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 **A/N** : It's been forever I know! This chapter (originally 43 pages long before I cut it) has been written for a while but like before, finding the time for editing has been a nightmare! This is really only part 1 of 2 (or 3). I hope there's a few people out there still willing to take this journey with me, so I invite you to please enjoy this installment with my heartfelt thanks.

I'd also like to send a special shout out to sjwmaw! =)

* * *

Jesse stared at the figure in the trench coat, a feeling of hatred almost overwhelming him. The last time he'd seen Castiel, he'd been eleven years old and the angel had tried to stab him with a demon-killing knife. The young man edged his way closer to the Winchesters, though he kept his eyes focused on his enemy, remembering the fear he'd felt back then. Castiel could count himself lucky that he'd only been turned into a toy at the time- a reflection of Jesse's once childlike innocence. Needless to say, those days were long gone. If the angel presented even one whiff of danger to Emma Winchester (and Castiel's revulsion for the girl was palpable even at this distance), Jesse was fully prepared to destroy him this time. For weeks now, he'd been sporadically keeping an eye on the Bunker and by extension, the British mercenaries who'd been spying relentlessly on the Winchester hideout. The soldiers had seemed content to remain in the shadows, so the occupants had remained relatively safe thus far, but when a band of women- Amazons, he'd discovered- had suddenly joined the hidden convoy tailing the family on their way to the park, Jesse had followed, expecting the worst. Of course, as the two factions had spent most of their time fighting each other, he'd been happy to keep out of it. Besides, he'd found Emma's demonstration of her emerging powers eminently more fascinating anyway.

She'd grown since he'd last seen her outside of the Bunker, clearly having reached the critical age where said abilities had begun to manifest. Jesse couldn't deny that he felt a special kinship with this girl, seeing a little of his own journey in hers. He already lived the tumultuous life of a hybrid, and he wasn't willing to give other beings like the angel any chance to destroy her before she'd had a chance at hers.

Jesse'd been angry when he'd left his home in Nebraska all those years ago, forced to do many unsavoury things in order to survive the first few years of his self-imposed exile. He'd had to adapt quickly in the beginning, bouncing around from country to country, evading hunters and the occasional religious zealots he crossed paths with before he'd learned to blend in completely and truly hide amongst the humans. He'd met all kinds of monsters along the way too- some, pure evil, others just trying to survive and almost all without homes or true families. But he'd never met anyone even remotely like him during his years of wandering. Now that he'd found another hafling in Emma, he was determined to safeguard her at all costs. He couldn't quite put all the pieces together yet, but there was so much more going on here- so much more to _her_ , and he needed more time to work it out. With her tribe's sudden appearance complicating matters, and the Winchesters still in contact with that murderous angel, Emma was going to need all the protection she could get.

His introspection was interrupted when Castiel suddenly stopped talking to survey the park, his eyes moving in Jesse's general direction. The teen made himself blend into the background- literally, knowing that the angel had sensed him because he'd let his shields lapse momentarily with his anger. After another few moments, Castiel touched the men's foreheads and they were gone. Jesse sighed deeply, reappearing in the Bunker, though he was invisible to all within it. He listened to Castiel's poor attempts to sway Dean, smiling smugly when the angel was sent packing. His opinion of Dean Winchester had increased exponentially since he'd been watching over this Bunker. For a hunter with a reputation for showing little mercy to _anything_ supernatural, his paternal commitment to Emma was deeply impressive.

When the angel left empty-handed, he knew the Winchesters were fine for now, but the undercurrent of desperation in Castiel's manner worried him. Jesse made the decision, though it wasn't without some trepidation, to follow him. Technically, being anywhere near Lucifer was not in his best interests, but perhaps it was time that he did his own investigating. He couldn't figure out how to protect Emma without knowing what was truly going on. And Castiel was hiding something. Jesse reached out with his mind and then, sensing the angel's location, reappeared just outside of Pittsburgh. The witch and the demon were there too. If the angel was going to try to drag the Winchesters into his mess, he needed to know exactly what they'd be dealing with.

* * *

"How's Aunt Betty?" Dean asked, a smile crossing his lips, "Any juicy new scandals breaking?"

"Yeah, I wish," Sadie replied with a chuckle, "Crime in this town has been pretty non-existent since the Department was cleaned up. Everyone's on edge. This town's so used to corruption that no one knows how to deal with actual law and order. I think it'll take a while for everything to truly settle down, but hey, I'll take it. I could use the break. How's Sam?"

"He's Sam- basically a puppy that keeps following me home no matter how many times I try to leave him somewhere, but what're you gonna do?" Dean said, his tone amused, as he smirked at the screen.

"Uh-uh," Sadie grinned, wagging her finger in mock disapproval as she snuggled further under the covers, settling the laptop higher on her stomach, "You are _such_ a bad liar. I may have a crappy computer, but even I can see that you don't mean a single word of that!"

"Okay, it's true. I tolerate the giant pain in my ass because he'd be lost without me."

Sadie laughed, as Dean smiled warmly at her, enjoying the melodious sound as they settled into a companionable silence for a minute.

"Dean," Sadie's expression went from amused to soft and uncertain, "Talking with you like this…. over these past weeks, I….I…."

She looked away from the screen, blushing and seemingly unable to find the right words.

"What, Dee?" Dean's tone was encouraging, "It's okay…..talk to me…."

Sadie turned back, pausing to study him for a moment. They were both incredibly busy people but they'd been making the effort to keep in touch, even if it was just a quick text to say hi. She couldn't believe how close she felt to this man, and they'd only kissed once…..well, not exactly, but the feeling of his lips on her forehead and his hand on her cheek had left her almost dizzy and craving that closeness again. She could still smell him- motor-oil, gun powder, leather and strangely, gardenias. Stolen moments like this one, though way too short, were helping to quickly cement him as an essential fixture in her life. Though in her mind she completely understood all the obstacles they were currently facing, her heart was making it more and more difficult to remain objective- or patient.

"I've never met anyone that understands me like you do, Dean…..that sees me like you do. I know how much you've got on your plate right now, especially with trying to help Emma, so I haven't wanted to burden you with my problems…."

"You're not a burden, Sadie," Dean shook his head and stared at her intently, willing her to see the sincerity in his eyes, "You're my one shining light in this whole mess. I wouldn't've gotten through any of this shit if I didn't have _this_ , so please, you gotta know, you can tell me anything and I'll help in any way that I can."

Sadie nodded, her expression more encouraged but yet still somewhat guarded.

"Work's been really, uh, difficult." she shook her head to stop him from interrupting, "I'm not exactly up for Employee of the Year around here. On the surface, everyone's just tryin' to pick up the pieces _,_ you know _,_ but it's obvious that it's all for show. They pretend to my face but the looks they give me behind my back? The whispering? The Department's still a boys' club and they don't like _little girls_ who don't know their place. I'm almost one hundred percent sure that they're cooking up some way to push me out…."

"They're all dicks, Dee! You just need to hang in there, do your job and show those asshats why you'll always be a better cop than all of them combined!" Dean was his usual blunt self and it made Sadie laugh in spite of herself.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not remotely ready to give up yet and there's a lot of work left to be done to clean up Raine's mess, but I…..I just need to know that there's something else waiting for me on the other side. That's not fair to you, I know. I mean, we haven't even gone on a real date yet. Of course, until I can try one of your so-called, 'World-Famous Winchester Super bacon cheeseburgers,' I don't know whether you can really be considered _boyfriend_ material…."

Sadie chuckled nervously for a moment until Dean's solemn expression sobered her.

"Dean," she said quietly, "I…I know how complicated your life is. I can still hardly believe that the monster under the bed is, well, an _actual_ monster under the bed, but here's the thing… and I think, I _hope,_ you feel the same. There's something happening between us, something _real._ I can't predict the future but I know that I'll…. _we'll_ regret it for the rest of our lives if we let _anything_ stand in our way of grabbing hold of it with both hands…"

"Sadie." Dean's voice was gruff, as he rubbed his neck, somewhat embarrassed himself, "Stop. You don't have to try convincing me. I don't know how any of this is gonna end either, but I damn well know that we both deserve this shot. Believe me, I plan on hanging on to it with everything I've got too…"

Living the life of a hunter had severely limited the number of serious relationships Dean had had in the past and, unsurprisingly, tended to be the reason for their one hundred percent failure rate too. Though he'd somehow managed to make it through an entire year of domestic bliss with Lisa and Ben, fate had happily and, inevitably, decided to bite him in the ass and take it all away in perhaps the worst way possible. Having Cass wipe away all their memories of him may have protected them, but the gut-wrenching tear it'd left in his soul had almost destroyed him. He'd given up on ever repairing that hole, choosing to fill it instead with rage, whiskey, beer and the corpses of monsters. That is, until his daughter, and now Sadie, had come into his life.

Sadie Gordon was unlike any other woman he'd ever met. The instantaneous attraction wasn't all that surprising, but it was the way he wanted to spill his guts to her about everything- the supernatural, Emma's rebirth, his _mother's_ rebirth, the latest apocalypse and Lucifer etc., etc., that was the real shock to him. Even when his head told him that he was being reckless and stupid, putting her in danger just to have a 'shoulder to cry on,' his heart made him do it anyway. He didn't want to jinx anything by saying it out loud, but he was clinging to the minute possibility that _this_ time, the universe might not be trying to screw him out of what could be his last chance at a future beyond hunting. That was a pretty significant paradigm shift for Dean Winchester, given the fact that he fully expected to go out in a hail of bullets long before he turned old and grey. So did Sammy. But having something- _someone_ to live for? His daughter was going to have a chance at the life the Winchester boys had never had and if he was lucky, Sadie would be the one standing right there beside him, while she did.

"That's good, really good," Sadie said quietly, more to herself than Dean, "So, uh, this might sound lame but…..when are you gonna let me come out there? It doesn't have to be for very long. Maybe a week? Or just a couple of days? A dinner date?"

Dean closed his eyes, his expression becoming apologetic and a little sad, "I want you here too, Dee, believe me, but those problems with my daughter? Things aren't going as well as I'd hoped. We haven't been able to fix anything yet…."

"Jesus," Sadie whispered, her voice sympathetic, "I'm a complete idiot, Dean. I'm so sorry. You know I'd never want to make this any harder on you. Is there anything I can do?"

Dean slowly shook his head, and sighed deeply, "I don't know if there's anything _anyone_ can do, but I've gotta keep trying. And you're not making it harder, Sadie, trust me. Talking with you these past few weeks has been one of the only things keeping me sane. I don't know what I would've done …"

Emma moved away from the door, not wanting to hear any more. Tears in her eyes, she made her way back to her room, quietly closing the door behind her. Woodenly, she walked over and sat on her bed, a myriad of thoughts swirling around in her brain. Yesterday had started out so well. She'd finally had the courage to tell her Dad about all those violent thoughts, the terrifying memories she'd been reliving daily and all of her worst fears…and he'd said that he loved her anyway. So had Uncle Sam. They'd even broken the rule about her leaving the Bunker, taking her to the park and letting her run wild. If she hadn't screwed things up by attacking that asinine _Ritter_ boy, it would've been the perfect day.

Theoretically, she knew that losing her temper like that had been wrong, but what could she have done? The little _dick_ had deserved it! Maybe she _was_ too impulsive, but that seemed to be a character trait that she'd inherited from the paternal half of her DNA. After all, her Dad had only been able to contain his own anger because Uncle Sam had been there to pull him back. Frankly, it was just one of the many reasons that she felt so close to her father- they understood each other.

The consequence of 'following in her father's footsteps' though, had been drawing attention to them, something that was strictly forbidden in the Winchester family. Not to mention that she'd put them all in danger with a crowd that had become increasingly more irate. The worst part though, had been the angel. Castiel's hostility towards her was extremely unsettling and it seemed to have only grown since the last time she'd seen him. Frankly, even at her tender age, she could recognize the potential danger there and was glad to see that her Dad had become wary of him. She'd heard everything from out in the hall where Claire had stopped to eavesdrop after they'd been dismissed from the room. Castiel had been trying to find Lucifer, a name she knew not only from her family's history with him, but because- and she was pretty sure about this- all monsters had an inherent understanding of who he was. She'd been horrified that stupid Castiel had been trying to get her father and uncle killed. No one went _searching_ for Lucifer.

While Claire had stared with rapt attention at the open doorway of the Map room, clearly intrigued by words like 'Angel Tablet', "Rowena and Crowley' and 'Amara', Emma had clutched at her hand, increasingly apprehensive as the argument between the men had become more and more heated. It was obvious that Claire hadn't been worried though. Anyone who knew her could see that she was formulating some kind of plan. Emma hadn't really gotten a chance to explore that notion though because her Dad had started talking about her. He'd told Castiel, in no uncertain terms, that she was more important than Lucifer and that he wasn't going anywhere. Honestly, it'd made her smile to hear him chewing the angel out but then she and Claire had had to hightail it back to her room when Dean had suddenly stormed out.

Emma had practically flown into bed while Claire had pretended to be just tucking her in. Her Dad was no idiot though and he'd come straight to her room, telling Claire that he'd "had it" with both of them. After chewing her out, the older girl had scooted past him, mouthing the word 'sorry' to Emma behind Dean's back. Her Dad had then turned his attention to her, crossing his arms and glaring down at her while she tried to look as innocent as possible.

"Nice try, kid, but like I've said before, you can't fool me."

"Uhhh, I don't…"

"No lies, little girl. I know you and Claire were listening, right?"

"Yes Daddy," Emma had replied carefully, not quite sure how much trouble she was actually in, "I'm sorry."

Dean had sighed deeply, suddenly looking exhausted as he dropped his arms and bade her scoot over. He'd sat down when she made room for him, a small smile on his face. He found it increasingly difficult to stay angry with his daughter because, apparently, he was _always_ going to be a sucker for those eyes of hers.

"Honey," he'd begun, almost apologetically, "there're a lotta things about hunting that I don't want you exposed to. Those _books_ for one…..," he'd paused, a stern look on his face, "…and second, any conversation where Uncle Sam and I ask you and Claire to leave. Is that understood?"

Emma had nodded fervently, squirming a little under his gaze. He'd smiled again, tucking her hair behind her ears and kissing her forehead.

"Thank you, sweetheart. Now, is there anything you need to ask me about what you overheard?"

"Why does Castiel hate me?"

Dean's eyes had widened a little, a little surprised but impressed by his daughter's forthrightness, "Em, I…Cass doesn't _hate_ you. Right now, he's really focused on a really dangerous mission and he's….."

"He wants you to help him find Lucifer and he thinks I'm in the way!" Emma had exclaimed, angry tears forming in her eyes which she'd immediately scrubbed away, "You can't go after him, Daddy, he'll kill you and Uncle Sam!"

"Baby, you heard the rest of the conversation, right?"

Dean had pushed himself to sit up against the headboard, lifting Emma onto his lap. She'd answered him with a small nod, though her face had begun to morph into a miniaturized version of Sam's bitch-face. He'd smirked for a second then continued.

"…then you heard me tell him to take a hike. Finding a way to slow down your aging is my top priority…my _only_ priority. Your Uncle, Claire and I are one hundred percent committed to curing you…" Dean had paused, seeing a look of uncertainty cross her face, "You're the most important person in my life, Emma, and I promise you that that will never change, okay?"

"I know," Emma, sniffling a little, had hugged him tightly.

"Good, so I don't want you worrying about any of this. The only thing you need to do is take that fake nap you weren't actually about to take."

" _Daaaaaaaad_!" Emma had whined, her epic pout kicking up a notch.

"Uh-uh!" Dean had shaken his head, his expression hardening slightly, "Consider this a reprieve, Em, 'cause I'm not exactly thrilled about what happened in the park today. You know what I'm talking about?"

Emma had fidgeted, refusing to look at him.

"Em?" Dean had raised his eyebrows when a few moments had gone by and his nervous daughter hadn't answered.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Excellent. Like I was about to say, lucky for you, I'm still too angry at Cass right now, and you need to spend some time thinking about what you did wrong. So, while I'm calming down, you can either take a nap or you can try coming up with a convincing explanation as to what the hell you were thinking when you attacked that boy…."

With those words, Emma had immediately climbed off of Dean's lap. She absolutely hated it when her Dad told her off, _especially_ when he was being 'reasonable' _._ _That_ was when he was being his most intimidating and her Dad was exceptionally intimidating when he wanted to be. She'd heard him laying down the law to Claire and even to Uncle Sam numerous times before, and they'd usually fallen into line pretty quickly (though Emma had her suspicions that her Uncle only indulged her Dad most of the time). When he'd started doing it to _her_ though, Emma had initially felt chastened. As she'd gotten older, what she'd felt instead was a strange mixture of defiance, indignation and dismay. Clearly, it was going to be really difficult to remain a Daddy's girl, if the budding need she'd been feeling to assert her independence became a more prominent feature of her personality.

Emma had nodded stiffly, feigning a huge yawn as she turned away from him and settled down on her side. Closing her eyes, it'd only taken a few moments to realize just how exhausted she actually was. Dean had pulled the covers over her, tucking her in with an amused smile on his face when she fell asleep after only a few seconds. She'd been like the Energizer Bunny on steroids, running around that park non-stop for hours even before 'Rittergate'. It was no surprise at all that she'd worn herself out. He'd leaned over and kissed her hair, whispering "Sleep well," before he left the room.

During dinner that night, despite knowing how vital it was to convey the danger of her earlier misadventure, it had taken all of Dean's willpower not to let his lecture turn into unfettered praise for Emma's standing up against 'the little mouth-breather'. Sam had given him a nasty look, shutting him down before his enthusiastic change of heart had gone too far. Dean decided to indulge 'Samantha' by letting it go until the opportunity to talk to him privately presented itself. He hadn't had to wait long. As soon as Emma and Claire had returned to their rooms, his brother had waylaid him, berating him first over his earlier dismissal of Castiel. Dean had cut that off pretty quickly, knowing that unleashing his misplaced frustration on Sam would be a waste of energy. When his brother had realized he was getting nowhere on the subject, he'd switched to questioning Dean about his asinine approach to discussing Emma's meltdown in the park. Reminding him that they were trying to set examples of _acceptable_ human behaviour for Emma, Dean was amazed to learn that apparently, 'encouraging badassery' in a soon to be adult Amazon with superhuman strength and a burgeoning bad attitude, was a gross failure of parenting. Dean had stared at him after his rant, a genuine look of puzzlement on his face. When pressed to explain himself, he'd stared at Sam curiously for a moment longer and remarked that he was trying to figure out how he was related to someone "so totally dorky." He'd had to duck away from the slap Sam aimed at the back of his head as he'd walked away chuckling obnoxiously. Sam had glared at him, admonishing him for not taking the warning seriously, and instead approaching the situation with his usual half-assed, flippant attitude. Dean had sobered immediately, telling his brother that he didn't need him to throw the obvious in his face.

"Look, I ain't gonna lie to you, Sammy. Seein' Emma take on that bully? I was damned proud of her today, but I'm not an idiot. You think I want my daughter showing off her abilities out in the open where people like us can see her? Can hunt her?"

"No, of course not, Dean…" Sam had begun, though his brother had quickly cut him off.

"Then how 'bout you trust me to do the right thing here. She may be my _first_ daughter, uh…. once repeated, but I _have_ raised a kid before….you know, _you_? So I _do_ know my responsibilities here…."

"Dean, man, you know I didn't mean…."

"Yeah, well, then _act_ like it!"

"Alright, I'm sorry. I…I just don't want anything to happen to her. She's growing so quickly now..."

"Believe me, I get it, Sam," Dean's tone had become more conciliatory, "That's why she's priority one…."

He paused consideringly, Sam's wounded expression a clear sign of his remorse for having upset his older brother. Dean knew that Sam was worried about what the park incident meant for Emma at this pivotal moment in her development because he, himself, had been dreading it since she'd come back into their lives. Deciding to forgive his brother without actually saying it, he let the last of the glower on his face die away, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

"Okay, maybe I was too caught up in Emma's _potential_ but you know I'm tryin' to do everything I can to shield her from all this….."

"I know, Dean." Sam was encouraged by his brother's change in demeanour, "but it's because she's starting to manifest her powers that we can't let our guard down. She needs our guidance- _your_ guidance now more than ever. She understands what the stakes are, so she's gonna be looking to you to figure out what kinda person she's wants to be. I….I just think we need to be really careful about everything we do and say around her..…"

"Yeah fine," Dean said gruffly, cutting off the rest of what was turning out to be an incredibly long chick-flick moment. Of course, if anyone asked, that's how he'd describe Sam's heartfelt speech but really, his brother had made his point incredibly effectively and Dean was finding it incredibly hard not to tell him so. There was no need to let Mr. Know-it-all get a big head.

"Fine," Sam replied, with more than a hint of a smirk. Too late, apparently.

"All right, Dr. Phil, settle down. I'm gonna go talk to the kid. You can come with, if you want, but you're just my backup in there, okay? Apparently, _I've_ gotta be the one to talk this out with her."

"Jerk!"

"Bitch!"

"Okay. Let's go."

Dean had proceeded to have a lengthy discussion with his daughter, going over the events of the day and how she could have handled everything differently. Emma had tried to defend her actions by saying that Ritter had gotten just what he deserved, attempting to appeal to her father's strong sense of justice and quoting a few of his comic book heroes to shore up her arguments. Dean had quickly shut that down, reminding her that such sources were make-believe, she was _not_ Diana Prince and that the real world only became a more complicated place the older one got- especially for her. It'd been devastating for Dean to have to destroy his daughter's innocence that way, telling her about the dangers she'd face if anyone outside of their little circle learned about who she was- an Amazon _and_ a Winchester. Theirs, was a family of hunters and they were infamous amongst both their peers and monsters, alike. That meant they had enemies on all sides and had to keep a low profile whenever possible. She was older now so she had to follow the 'company rules' like everyone else.

Emma had been mostly subdued after that, agreeing with everything he'd said without question and affirming that she would only get involved or use physical force if she, one of her family members or a civilian were in mortal danger and even then, only as a last resort. Both men could tell that she wasn't happy about any of it but having both of them deliver thinly-veiled warnings about dire consequences for violating their new understanding, was pretty convincing, so she didn't put up any more of a fuss. They'd left her to sleep with a final flurry of hugs and kisses, promising that everything would be all right and reiterating their commitment to finding a way to help and keep her safe.

* * *

Hours later, Emma was caught in a fitful sleep, deep within the throes of the recurring nightmare that saw her reliving her torture/ training at the hands of the tribal elders, as well as the physical anguish of being shot and killed by her uncle. In _that_ particular moment, just for a millisecond, she'd actually felt her despondent soul leaving her body and landing in Purgatory. That's how she always rounded out this dream- running from a myriad of deadlier monsters in fear for her life, while enduring an overwhelming sense of worthlessness at her failure to complete the most fundamental rite of passage of her kind. That was usually enough to force her awake in a cold sweat. This time, though, things played out a little bit differently. The new and sudden appearance of her mother within her nightmare was something that terrified her even more.

Emma came to choking and crying, her eyes frantically searching the room but finding herself all alone in the darkness. Gingerly, she put her hands to her throat, expecting to feel pain but realizing that everything _had_ really been just a dream. She could still practically feel the woman's powerful hands wrapped around her throat, squeezing the life from her.

"Be grateful that I am willingly debasing myself to offer you this last act of kindness, runt. Death by my hand is more than a weak, pathetic creature like you deserves…." Her mother's enraged face filled her vision, hatred and disgust written all over it. "…but I'm willing to do it, Emma, because you're my mistake to correct….."

She could feel consciousness slipping away, her mother's triumphant grin the last thing she saw before her eyes slid closed. As she drifted away, resigned to returning to Purgatory- likely for good this time, she thought of her family- her Dad, Uncle Sammy and Claire. They'd cared for her, protected her, loved her even though she was the embodiment of something vile…something 'unholy.' Maybe this was for the best. Her death would allow them to go back to the way things had been before she'd complicated their lives.

When she finally woke up a few moments later, spluttering and coughing but safe in the Bunker, that fatalism disappeared immediately and she thanked God for being alive. She sprung up from her bed, intending to seek out Dean. When she almost tripped over her own feet, she quickly came to the horrible realization that she'd aged yet again. It was all too much as she made her way to her Dad's door in tears. Emma knew that he would make her feel better because he _always_ made her feel better after one of her nightmares. He'd calm her with tales from his own childhood when her grandparents were still alive and happy, and stories of the supernatural were just fairytales. Dean had confessed that his four-year-old self couldn't have imagined anything more important than growing up to be just like his Dad and having both John and his new little brother, Sammy, be proud of him. In his mind, that meant becoming a cowboy or a fireman or a mechanic….at the very least, being the best tee-ball player in first grade. His stories of that simpler, happier time had always managed to lull her back into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.

Apparently, things were going to go a little bit differently this time around.

Emma followed his voice to the slightly ajar door of his room, fully intending to go in and announce her presence. However, it only took a few moments of eavesdropping outside for her to realise that her father was having a very personal conversation with a woman- a woman who seemed to be a long-distance girlfriend that he'd never seen fit to mention before. From what she could gather, they'd been practically pining for each other for a while just like two star-crossed lovers separated by tragic, insurmountable circumstances. Circumstances like a poor lonely father burdened with a monster daughter who was standing in the way of his budding happily ever after. Guilt, then betrayal, then rage flowed through her and before she knew it, she was back in her room, sitting on her bed tearing her pillow in half without even realizing it. She stood up to pace, angry tears streaming down her face as its remnants fell to the floor, feathers strewn all over the place.

All the crap that her Dad had told her last night about being _absolutely_ focused on her and trying to find a 'cure'? All lies! How focused could he be if he was lusting after _Dee_? And since when was being an Amazon something to be _cured_? Was that the only way a _monster_ could be accepted in this family of hunters? If you had the gall to be 'defective,' you'd better hope you were 'fixable' too? Why was something wrong with _her,_ anyway? Wasn't she the one with the superior DNA around here? Her abilities would only be an asset to them once she was a little older and got even stronger. She could go hunting with them and be….their secret weapon or something! They were training Claire, weren't they? She was a girl too, not remotely super-powered and worse, not even family. Emma'd certainly have more to offer if they'd teach her instead. Her brows furrowed as an unbidden thought crossed her mind- Wasn't it just like a human male to try suppressing the will of his superior?

Images of her mother from her earlier dream flitted through her head again. It may not have been real, but clearly her subconscious had been trying to tell her just how naïve and weak she'd been this whole time. Dean Winchester was a liar; his word couldn't be trusted and she refused to play the fool anymore. From now on, she'd have to start looking out for herself. Fortunately, she'd soon be old enough and strong enough to start making her own choices.

Emma ran her hand through her hair as she made her way back to the bed, carelessly throwing herself onto it, so that a cloud of feathers flew up around her. She'd been so sure that her Dad's motives had been pure that he was a loving father trying to protect her, even if it was from herself. But there would be no 'fixing' her if _she_ didn't want it. There was every possibility that, all this time, he'd actually been grooming her to passively accept his plan to 'sanitize' her DNA, all to ensure smooth sailing for the future life he was planning with his lady love.

She was so caught up in her rumination, that she barely noticed when the door suddenly opened.

"Emma?" It was Sam, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline as he took in the mess. Then he saw her face and the tears in her eyes. "Em, honey…"

"Don't you knock?" she asked snottily, not really interested in seeing any other Winchesters right now.

"I did," he replied with a frown, realizing that his niece had aged yet again and was likely feeling very overwhelmed. The hostile look on her face was one he recognized from Dean's more 'formative' years, and suggested that the angst phase of his niece's childhood might well be upon them, "What happened in here?"

"Well, I don't remember saying you could come in, sooooo…" she crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head to glare at him.

Sam's eyes narrowed. Angst he could handle. Whatever _this_ was, it was too early in the morning and he wasn't in the mood for it. He walked more fully into the room and stood in front of her, making her stare up at him.

"Do you wanna try that again, young lady?" he asked, keeping his voice steady.

"Oookay," she scoffed, sitting up and looking at him like he was stupid, "How's this? GET OUT!"

Her scream was ear-piercing and Sam winced, falling back a few steps when Emma jumped up from the bed and pushed him towards the door.

"Emma!" he and Dean shouted in unison, his brother just stepping into the room.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

Emma's glare turned on Dean, the look in her eyes turning for a split second to hatred as his betrayal flashed through her mind. There wasn't much time for reflecting on that though because she was suddenly lifted into the air and stood up on her bed. Now, she found herself uncomfortably at eye level with both of them.

"Emma Winchester!" Dean said, his visage stern and more than a little scary from this position, "I don't know what's going on in your head right now, but you need to take a breath and stop this. You don't speak to any member of this family that way, and you don't get physical with any of us either. Do you hear me? No, don't say anything. You don't get to talk right now. Nod if you understand me…." Dean paused while his daughter gave a tight bob of her head, "Good. I know it's been a rough coupla days but there's no excuse for what I just walked in on! None! Your Uncle and I are gonna go make breakfast while you clean up this mess and think up an apology. Be prepared to give it Sam when he brings up your eggs!"

He pulled her forward a bit so he could kiss her forehead and he and Sam moved to leave the room.

"We're gonna talk about this after, Em," Dean called, giving her the Winchester Glare over his shoulder, just before he moved into the hallway.

Emma stared after them, conflicted about what to do next. Dean's betrayal still had her seething inside, so she wasn't exactly champing at the bit to follow his orders. She was, however, willing to concede that Uncle Sam had been a casualty of her frustration. While defying her father might provide short term satisfaction, apologizing like he'd demanded might help advance her own self interests. Getting Sam to remain sympathetic to her point of view would make him a formidable ally against Dean in the coming weeks. Saying sorry was one thing but gathering pillow-innards before breakfast? Not likely. The stupid things were everywhere and she wasn't in the mood.

She dropped down to sit on the bed, said innards flying up around her yet again, making things that much worse. She reached under her mattress to pull out Claire's iPad which she'd borrowed when the older girl had been down in the shooting range. Claire had been so upset that Emma had entered 'a forbidden zone' that she'd said yes to the tablet, the last of her chocolate stash and a late bedtime without any more thought than ushering the girl back upstairs as quickly as possible. The chocolate had been amazing.

Emma opened the pdf file of interest and skimmed the screen. She was a few pages away from finishing her latest Supernatural book, "Metamorphosis." In it, her father had been furious with Uncle Sammy over his psychic abilities and association with the demon, Ruby. It only took ten minutes to finish it, but it left her with more lingering questions than answers. Reflecting on any of those was going to have to wait though, because Emma heard heavy footfalls in the hallway outside her room. She barely had time to close and change the app before Sam walked through the door, a plate full of eggs, bacon and toast in hand.

"Hey kiddo," Sam said affably, noting the fact that his niece was avoiding eye contact with him while she typed away on the iPad, "Brought you breakfast."

Emma ignored him, staring pointedly at the screen as he made his way over to the bed, sitting down beside her and peering over her shoulder. It only took a few seconds before his eyes widened and, with his free hand, he snatched the tablet away.

"Wha….Emma!" Sam was at a loss. He couldn't believe what his twelve-ish year old niece was watching.

"Yes, Uncle Sam?" she asked, eyes exaggeratedly wide and her lip quivering slightly. In truth, she was finding it hard to keep a straight face, given that he was still spluttering comically, clearly trying to come to terms with what he'd just seen.

"Does Claire…do you have permission to use this….this…?"

"Of course I do," she replied nonchalantly, as if her uncle wasn't stammering in utter shock, "I asked Claire if I could borrow it so I could read up about the Amazons. Why do you ask?"

"Young lady," Sam could see that his niece was attempting to hide brattiness with feigned innocence. He'd seen that exact look on her father's face when he'd tried to cover up several idiotic things he'd done over the years too. "I don't find you funny. If you're using this for research, why did I find you watching this Fifty Shades crap? How did you get access to an R rated movie anyways?"

"Claire has an Amazon Prime account," Emma sat back and looked up at her uncle, unperturbed, "I was just taking a break and it looked interesting."

"Right. And you thought you were allowed to watch movies like this? You just turned, uh…twelve!"

"And I could be sixteen tomorrow. How else am I gonna learn about stuff like this? You only officially let me leave the Bunker a few days ago for the first time. At this rate, I'll have my own daughter by next week and I won't have any idea how I did it…."

"Emma," Sam shook his head, his voice taking on a more sympathetic tone, "Like your Dad said, you're our top priority. We're gonna find a way for you to have _some_ kind of childhood, okay?"

The mention of her father's fake promise broke through her façade. She scowled at her uncle, her eyes drifting to the bed as she said, "Didn't you come up here to give me _those?_ " She inclined her head towards the plate he'd abandoned on the far side of him, " _they're_ getting cold and _this,_ is getting old."

Sam was taken aback for a second, not exactly sure how she thought this kind of strategy was going to help get her out of this. Then his jaw started twitching and his voice dropped an octave as he said, "Little girl, you're already in enough trouble and last I checked, you were supposed to be cleaning up your room _not_ watching movies…."

"I…"

"I'm not done, Emma," he interrupted sternly, picking up the plate and handing it to her, "Go over to your desk and eat your breakfast. You're grounded. That means you're staying in this room today, cleaning it up and spending some time re-thinking this new attitude…."

Emma pouted for a second, then her face hardened again and Sam sighed.

"Obviously you've aged again, Em and I know how much that scares you. Your Dad and I understand that this has all been incredibly hard on you…it's been hard on _all_ of us. But we're a family and we don't take it out on each other…."

Emma scoffed, muttering under her breath, "Maybe _you_ understand…"

"Honey?" Sam put his hand on her shoulder, and gently turned her around to face him, "What do you mean?"

Emma shook her head, but there was no way Sam was going to let a comment like that pass. He picked her up and sat her sideways on his lap, noting how much more difficult it was to do so now that she'd grown older. Then he hugged her to him and kissed the top of her head.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, tightening his hold momentarily, "You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?"

Emma's body was tense as she shook her head.

"Yes, you can," Sam said, tilting her chin gently upward so he could look her in the eyes, "What did you mean, Em?"

Emma stared at him assessingly, finally relaxing in his hold and sighing deeply. Sure, there might be some risk to entrusting Sam with some of her deepest thoughts on this subject but, it would also mean getting the inside track on where he stood on the matter.

"You used to be just like me," she said cryptically, trying to choose her words carefully, "You used to have powers- _demon_ powers, so you were a monster, like me…."

"You're not a monster, Em..."

"Yes, I am!" she insisted, tugging at his shirt, "That's what my mother was and that's what I'm gonna turn into…."

"Your Dad and I don't think you're a monster, Em. You're…"

"That's what Dad thought about you."

"What?"

"I've read some of the Supernatural books, remember? I know how he treated you- like you weren't even his brother anymore! And it's not like it was even your fault. Azazael blackmailed your Mom and he _gave_ you those powers. If Dad could feel that way about you, imagine what he thinks of me? I was _born_ with them. I can't _choose_ not to use them like you can!"

"Oh God," Sam said, moving his niece off his lap and standing her up in front of him, "Emma, is that what you really think? That your Dad hates monsters so much that he can only love you if you're _fixed_?"

Emma was pretty impressed with her uncle's intuitive reasoning. She thought about denying it, but frankly her curiosity was stronger than her need to be strategic. Sam shook his head in disbelief.

"Em, you have it all wrong…." He paused for a moment and his eyes became haunted. "Listen, I don't really want to make excuses, but your Dad was….gone and I was grieving. I was in a really bad place mentally. All I wanted was revenge and I really didn't care how I got it. I let my guard down and a demon got close enough to feed me all the lies I wanted to hear. I'm not proud of any of that, and yeah, Dean tore into me for being so stupid, but it's because he loves me that he never gave up on me, no matter how angry he was. I'm here with you right now because he was strong enough for the both of us when he needed to be and he's strong enough for you too. He won't abandon you, honey, and neither will I…."

Emma glared at him defiantly, clearly not the least bit convinced. Stubbornness was just one more characteristic she shared with Dean, apparently. Sam looked at her thoughtfully, deciding on a different tack.

"You've heard all about that night and the events leading up to…to when you died, but I don't think we ever talked about what happened after."

"After?"

"Years ago, when I was about fifteen, we were on a case in Nebraska. Dad and Dean were out and I was left behind doin' the research, as usual. At the library one day, I met a girl named Amy. We really understood each other- she and her mom traveled a lot, just like we did and she didn't get along so well with her, just like me and my Dad. Long story short, it turned out that her mother was the one we were hunting. They were kitsunes – it's not important what that means right now, but they were Supernatural and her mom was killing people all over the area. She also wasn't…very kind to her daughter and when she found out about me, Amy made a really hard choice and killed her mom to save me. Dad and Dean never found out that it was Amy and her mother that we were hunting, so it was easy when I let her go…"

"You let her go?" Emma whispered, as she stared at her uncle in shock. She couldn't quite tell where this story was going, but the look in his eyes was easily identifiable. Empathy, understanding, protectiveness- she felt them all when he turned those puppy-dog eyes on her. It was almost enough to ease her bitterness….almost.

"Not long before you were born- the first time, Dean and I came across Amy again. She'd been living a pretty quiet life with her son but then he got sick. He was a kitsune, just like her and he was dying. Amy hadn't been hurting anyone up until then, but to save him, she ended up killing three people. That was why I went off without Dean and tracked her down- I recognized the pattern and found her first. I was going to kill her….I _planned_ to kill her, but honestly, after finding out about her kid, it was easy to put myself in her shoes. And of course, I couldn't forget about that time that she saved my life, so yeah, Em, I let her go. My mistake was telling your Dad what I'd done." Sam gave his niece a grim smile, then he sighed, his expression turning weary. "You have to understand Em, the Winchester philosophy on hunting has always been pretty rigid, 'We kill the monsters- _all_ the monsters- period.' That was drilled into us by our Dad for as long as I can remember, so It really shouldn't have surprised me when Dean figured it out and went behind my back to kill Amy…..No, wait honey, let me finish. I only found out what he'd done weeks later and I was furious with him for lying to me. I mean, Amy was one of the _good_ ones in my mind. But the night that I walked in and saw you and Dean- that knife in your hand and that look on his face? I _knew_ he was feeling the same way I had about Amy. I finally understood why he did what he did. He wouldn't've been able to hurt you, baby, even to defend himself. If I hadn't shown up, I would've found my brother dead…."

Sam paused, briefly closing his eyes and swallowing thickly. Despite his words, Emma could see the remorse on his face, and when he opened them and looked down at her again, he brushed his hand over her hair in silent apology.

"….Afterwards, Dean tried to downplay the way he'd reacted to you, but I knew how much pain your death caused him. I made my peace with this life long ago, but the reality is, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. We go from case to case, day after day, year after year…it's lonely, it's exhausting and it's never-ending. Don't get me wrong, we've saved a _lotta_ people, and maybe even the world a time or two, but when I think about what might have been for both of us…regular jobs where we're not fighting for our lives every second, white picket fences, families…..Look, what I'm trying to say is that expressing his feelings has never been Dean's strong suit, but he was devastated when you died 'cause he realized what he'd lost- a chance at a _real_ future. If things could've been different back then, he'd have taken you and walked away from all of this, I swear to you."

"I…I don't…"

"He loves you, Em, we both do. You have to know that. We want you to have the childhood we didn't and the chance at a long, happy, _normal_ life….," Sam paused, his expression becoming even more serious as he said the next part, "I'll be honest, honey, we don't know what's gonna happen when you get older- if nurture is gonna win out over nature, so we gotta assume the worst. We won't let history repeat itself though, I swear. Your Dad and I are gonna protect you and keep you safe."

"That doesn't make any sense, Uncle Sam," Emma said mildly, looking down at her feet, "How exactly would you be protecting _me_ , when I'm supposed to be the threat? Is that your way of hinting that you're gonna kill me again if I go _Amazon_?"

Sam ducked his head, asking her to look at him so that he could stare straight into her eyes.

"I want you to listen to me very carefully, Emma, because I need you to understand every word that I'm sayin' to you. Your Dad and I have more love for you than you can ever imagine. I know you've read the early Supernatural books, so you know how resilient and determined the members of this family are. How we sacrifice for each other? There's no question, sweetheart, we _will_ find a way around this because there _is_ no other option. I've doubted him in the past, but I've learnt from experience that when your Dad makes a promise, he keeps it…always."

Sam peered at his niece, looking for any degree of acceptance on her face, but her expression was unreadable. He tried again. "Nothing in any realm of existence would ever make us hurt you, Emma. Not again."

She turned her head away from him at first and he waited, giving her the time to mull over his words. When she finally looked up at him again, his niece's eyes had hardened just a little and he couldn't help but wonder what had crossed her mind in that moment. Up until then, he was sure that he'd managed to convince her.

"Right," she mumbled, her eyes downcast again, "tell that to Dad."

She'd spoken so softly that he was sure she hadn't expected him to hear it.

"Em," he sighed, shaking his head, but he could tell by the stubborn set of her jaw that her hackles were raised. Again, she reminded him so much of Dean in this moment that he knew there was no way he was going to get through to her just now. That didn't mean that he couldn't try to salvage something out of this. He dragged her towards him, entwining her in his arms.

"It's gonna be alright, Em," he murmured soothingly as he hugged her tightly, her body stiff and unyielding. Then, with a smile crossing his face, he quipped. "After all, we're the _Win_ chesters right, not the _Lose_ chesters. You'll see, we'll figure it out."

Emma pulled away from him, wrinkling her nose at him in disgust.

"That was bad, Uncle Sammy," she said, her face brightening just a little as he kissed her forehead, "You're very silly."

"I don't know about that," he replied jovially, happy that he'd managed to lighten the mood somewhat, "I think I'm adorable."

Emma's eyes widened as Sam studied her closely. Yes, she'd recognized the reference, if her sudden, fidgeting meant anything. It might have been an old quote from Dean from many years ago, but her guilty reaction gave him the sneaking suspicion that his niece was still reading the Supernatural books. In fact, it was entirely possible that she'd been using that 'movie' as a deflection to hide what she'd _really_ been doing on that iPad before he'd walked in. Not surprising, given that that would've be classic Dean Winchester behaviour too. He was going to have to keep a closer eye on her and her reading habits.

He decided not to make a big deal of his hunch yet- at least not without Dean present. Sam completely understood her obsession, since the books were like a window into her family's past but that didn't mean that she could just disobey them without consequences. He'd wait to talk it over with his brother.

"Now, young lady, like your Dad said, I don't ever wanna hear you talking to us like you did earlier, understand? I know you're upset, but that kinda behaviour is _always_ gonna get you into trouble."

"I'm sorry, Uncle Sammy. I didn't mean it." This time, _she_ wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tightly and willing him to forgive her. Sam winced at the pressure but hugged her back.

"Thank you, honey," he said, when she let go, "There's just one more thing. You get to watch all the G-rated movies you want, but the rest, you clear with us. You're grounded to your room today _and_ tomorrow and this iPad goes back to Claire for the next week. After that, if it's okay with her, you can use it again with _all_ the parental restrictions in place."

His niece nodded contritely and he smiled at her.

"I think we better get you some new eggs, huh?" Sam looked over at the now unappetizing blob on the plate.

"Can I have Cocoa Puffs instead?" Emma asked hopefully, _her_ puppy-dog eyes on full blast.

"Cheerios with fresh blueberries? Sure!" Sam replied amused, "And you can put those away, kiddo, they don't work on me."

Emma pouted slightly but more for effect. Really, she'd gotten off pretty lightly. Her uncle stood up and turned her by the shoulders to face the room.

"Time to clean-up, Emma."

"What?"

Sam turned her back around and gave her an expectant look, crossing his arms over his chest. They stared at each other for a few more moments before she sighed loudly and rolled her eyes.

"We can make it three days if you want…."

"No!" she exclaimed immediately heading for her trash can, "I'm cleaning, I'm cleaning!"

"I wanna see this room looking significantly less like a chicken coop and more like my niece's room by the time I get back, okay?"

"Uh-huh," Emma replied, too involved in gathering feathers to see her Uncle's grin.

"Good girl. And Em, I think half the feathers may be in your hair, just F.Y.I"

Sam left her to it, taking the plate with him. He wasn't looking forward to having to share the details of their conversation with Dean. It seemed that Emma's real beef was with her Dad and she was keeping whatever had precipitated it, close to her chest. He entered the kitchen, heading straight for the sink.

"What? She didn't want the eggs?" Dean asked, a little irritation in his voice, "Give 'em here."

"They're cold, Dean," Sam replied, frowning at his brother's implacable stare.

With a sigh, he handed the plate over, watching his brother scrape the whole gloppy mess onto his own plate, dousing it in ketchup and shoveling the first forkful into his mouth. Sam rubbed his temples and sat next to his brother. Dean noticed the look on his face, and through a mouth full of eggs, asked, "Did she give you a hard time or did you just add one of your _touchy-feely_ sessions onto her apology?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that your, "I'll take her breakfast," took forever, man!" Dean exclaimed incredulously, "How long do you need to drop off some eggs?" Then he narrowed his eyes. "Did she have a really good apology? She didn't sucker you into cleaning up for her, did she?"

"No….," Sam hesitated, but was interrupted before he could continue.

" _Did_ she give you attitude?"

Another moment's pause was all it took before Dean was out of his chair. Sam grabbed his arm and ordered him to sit and calm down. Clearly Dean's and mini-Dean's hot-temperedness was going to make this whole process a lot harder than it had to be.

"Just shut up and listen," Sam spoke over Dean who was about to tell him off, "We've got a problem- or actually, _you_ do…."

Sam relayed his encounter with Emma, his brother facial expressions conveying a myriad of emotions by the time he'd finished. Somewhere near the end, Claire had wandered into the kitchen looking for coffee, saying she'd been told by Emma to report that her room was now spotless. Sam asked her to take a bowl of cereal to his niece and filled her in on Emma's recent transgressions and the subsequent consequences. Claire took her iPad back, annoyed to hear that the girl was likely defying even _her_ by continuing to read the Supernatural books. She left with bowl in hand, declaring that she intended to give Emma a piece of her mind. Sam started to object to that but Dean intervened, telling him to let it go. Sam waited for her to leave before casting a questioning glance at his brother.

"She deserves to get chewed out about this." Was his reply as Sam gave him a withering glare. "The attitude's not acceptable, Sam. Neither is the sneaking around and lying. And that movie? Don't get me started. I don't think there's eye bleach strong enough to erase those images from her brain _or_ mine. She may not have gone _full Amazon_ yet, but if this is stage one, I'm gonna nip it in the bud starting now!"

Dean pushed back from the table but his brother quickly stood up and blocked his way again.

"She's practically a teenager now, Dean, so this _stage_ was inevitable. Look, I already punished her, all right? She's grounded today and tomorrow and the iPad is M.I.A. for a week with parental restrictions in place before she touches it again." Sam paused, huffing in exasperation at his brother's stubborn snort. "Come on Dean, do you really think storming in there like some kind of avenging angel is gonna help? More importantly, are you just ignoring what I told you because it's too hard to talk about? Emma is terrified that you see her as a monster and that we won't hesitate to kill her again if she turns on you. I tried reassuring her, but _you're_ the one she needs to hear from. She's not stupid. She knows that the way she acted in the park isn't _normal_ behaviour and obviously she's closer than ever to the age when she….."

If Sam thought that he'd shared his opinion thoughtfully and convincingly, especially since he'd managed to hijack Dean's full attention for longer than usual, he was wrong. Dean gave him an annoyed look and then side-stepped him, heading straight for his daughter's room. Sam made to follow, but his phone rang, distracting him. He pulled it out, glancing towards the hallway, his brother's deep, muffled voice steadily rising in the background. He considered ignoring the call in favour of breaking up the burgeoning argument, but when he looked down at the screen, his eyes widened and he answered immediately. A few minutes later, he went to find his brother.

"Dean?" Sam entered his niece's room, just as she screamed at her father to get out.

"Kid, if you know what's good for you, you're gonna take the sass down a notch." Dean looked surprisingly calm as he stared at his daughter, his arms crossed and the Winchester glare set to Defcon One. Emma looked uncertain for a moment, especially when she saw her uncle step into the room, the look on his face mirroring his brother's.

"Uh…" she said quietly, suddenly unable to look at either of them.

"Just working out how much trouble you're in, huh?" Dean asked without much heat, moving to sit on her bed, "Think about that some more while your Uncle talks to me."

Sam came more fully into the room, glancing at both of them. Things had clearly been about to careen even further off the rails between father and daughter.

"I've heard from Madigan. He thinks he's got some answers for us but he won't tell me over the phone. Says we need to _see_ what he found."

Dean's face hardened slightly at the news. Jack 'Mads' Madigan was one of their father's old acquaintances- a paranoid, fifth-generation Irishman who had a particular mistrust of other hunters. That Dean had included him in the barrage of SOSs that he'd sent out over the Hunter Network, was a reflection of the depth of his desperation. Madigan had never played well with others in general, and had a fractious history with the Winchesters, in particular. John had first come across the man when they'd ended up working on the same werewolf case in Virginia many years ago. According to their Dad, Madigan had cut and run when the going had gotten tough, and John had been very lucky to get out of there alive. He'd never heard from or come across Jack again. Obviously, the man still monitored the regular channels though, and if he had something useful to tell them, Dean was willing to hear him out.

"Maybe we should talk about this outside?" Dean said, about to stand up.

"No," Sam replied resolutely, "I think Emma should hear this. Sweetheart, we got a call from another hunter in Knoxville who thinks he's got some information about the Amazons that can help us. Apparently, he's got a line on some ancient text containing legends and rituals from Themiskyra. He wouldn't tell me anything else because he thinks that it's better that we see it in person." Sam moved to stoop in front of his niece. "This is our first real lead, honey. Jack wouldn't have reached out to us if he didn't have something solid."

Emma nodded at him, her face an odd mixture of fear and relief. "Where does he live?"

"In Knoxville. Your Dad and I are gonna go see what he has to say and then, hopefully, we'll have more to go on."

"Can I come with you?"

"Are you kidding? Absolutely not!" Dean interjected, an incredulous look on his face, "Apart from the fact that you're grounded for being a brat all morning, there's no way in Hell that you're coming out on a hunt with us!"

"This isn't a hunt!" Emma's tone was decidedly hostile, "Uncle Sammy said you were just going to get information. How is that a…?"

"I swear to Chuck, little girl, I've just about had it with…!"

"Shut up, _both_ of you!" Sam would've been happy to slam their heads together, if there was any possibility that it would knock some sense into them. "You two are the most frustrating, pigheaded idiots I've ever…!"

"Hey!"

"Hey!"

"Quiet!" Sam's tone brooked no argument. "You're gonna work this out, _right now,_ before we go anywhere 'cause _I am not_ playing referee for you two today- not about this. Dean, it's time to man up and _really_ talk to your daughter. You know what's going on with her cause I just told you. Hash this out so you can both move on 'cause we all need to be working together on this. And Emma," he turned his blazing eyes towards his niece who recoiled at the sternness within them. "This is the last time I expect any of us to have to say this to you today…..you _do not_ speak to anyone in this family like that… _ever_. Especially, not your father! You're going to tell him yourself what's got you so upset but you're gonna to do it without the smart-ass attitude. Now, for the last time, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Uncle Sam," Emma murmured apologetically though, when she turned to look at Dean and saw his expectant face, her eyes narrowed. After a few minutes of father and daughter being stuck in their juvenile staring contest, Emma looked away sullenly, clearly no match for the old pro that was Dean. Sam had been on the receiving end of Dean's "John Winchester-esque" look many times as a kid and it'd never failed to break him either. Honestly, Sam was just glad that they might finally be able to get somewhere.

"Dad?" Her voice was uncertain as she looked past Dean's shoulder at the wall behind him. "I'm really sorry. Uncle Sammy's right. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that…."

Dean gave her one last dose of the glare before he gave her a single nod of acknowledgement for her apology. Then he sighed. "Em." He waited another few seconds before reaching out and pulling her directly in front of him. "I'm pretty mad at you right now, kiddo. This is about the third or fourth time that we've talked about the attitude, isn't it? I'm done, Emma, do you hear me? No more shouting, no more sarcasm and no more backtalk! And you definitely don't scream at me to, 'G _et out.'_ Is this getting through to you? 'Cause, if we have to chat about this again, you're not gonna like what comes next. As it is, I'm adding another two days to your grounding and it's going to be another week 'til you touch anything electronic again. And I think you're old enough now to start doing some chores around here. Laundry, helping with and cleaning up after meals, washing Baby- _with_ supervision, of course- are all activities you're gonna become really familiar with. You'll be so busy that you won't have time for eye-rolling and a smart mouth…."

Emma swallowed thickly, nodding to show that she'd understood him.

"Good." Dean eyed his brother, not exactly relishing this next part, "Now, as much as I hate to admit this… your Uncle Sam may have a point. I've never been very good at expressing stuff like _feelings._ Let's just say that I'd rather face down a nest of vampires alone in the dark….."

"I understand, Dad."

"…..without a blade, or dead man's blood…."

"She gets it, Dean."

"…or back up and with one hand tied behind my back….," he paused at Sam's glare but then smirked in response, "But now that I've got you, I guess it's time for this old dog to learn a few new tricks…"

"Dean." Sam shook his head. This was too important for deflection by humour.

Dean pursed his lips, but his brother's point had been made.

"So, if I made it seem like you couldn't come to me to tell me what was wrong, then I'm truly sorry. We're a family. That means a lot when you're a Winchester. We have to take care of each other, look out for each other, be honest with each other, _trust_ each other…."

Dean held his daughter's face in his hands, wanting to look her in the eye while he said, "I'm not gonna pretend that I have all the answers, baby, but you gotta know that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I knew it when I lost you before and I knew it when Benny brought you back to me weeks ago. Nothing is gonna get in the way of our second chance, not as long as there's a breath in my body. I loved you, even when you tried to kill me years ago. I wouldn't have admitted that before- not even to myself, but your Uncle Sammy and I have been through, well, more than our fair share of pain. That's the job. It's who we are and we accept that. But every once in a while, the universe gives back to us and makes all that hurt _really_ worth it. I'm grabbing hold with both hands, Em, and I'm not letting you go. You're a gift- _God's_ _gift_ to me. There are no exchanges or take backs. You're stuck with us and we're gonna find a way to make sure that you have the life you never got the first time around. That's my job as your Dad and I'll never stop and neither will Uncle Sam, even if you _do_ end up killing me. Do you understand now? Does that explain my feelings for you? We can have this talk over and over until I'm blue in the face, Em, and that's never gonna change, no matter how much you're acting like your Uncle Sammy did at your age…"

Dean shuddered comically, making Emma smile and Sam's glare deepen. "Oh great! Now I'm having flashbacks to his emo period…"

"Emma?" Sam chose not to take the bait, ignoring Dean's blatant idiocy, " _Do_ you understand?"

She looked between the two men, seeing the truth of their words in their earnest faces. Emma considered the situation. She was still angry over her Dad's silence about the 'Sadie-woman', but maybe she'd been a little hasty with her total condemnation of his motives. She'd let the one lapse of his judgement, and her subsequent jealousy, overrule all the words and actions she'd experienced since being reborn. In truth, from the time she'd come to the Bunker, her Dad had showed her time and time again that he loved her- with every smile, every tickle, and every Harry Potter character voice he acted out during bedtime stories. But she was older now and, as much as her heart told her that they believed in everything they were saying to her, Emma was discovering that she was more of a realist- one with a significant self-preservation streak. Days ago she'd been just a little girl but in a week or two, she might end up being even older than Claire. Her father and uncle could choose to be optimistic if they wanted, but like she'd decided earlier, she was planning contingencies. It was time to start working on her _own_ plan B, i.e. some way to remove herself from their lives _if_ she turned on them. If her natural instincts steered her towards inevitable patricide, distance might be the only way to suppress the urge.

To make such plans, however, she needed access to _all_ the relevant information as soon as possible. To that end, she felt that she had every right to hear this guy Madigan's intel first hand to assess for herself whether or not it was credible. Besides, since this whole situation was uncharted territory for everyone involved, it was just as likely that spending even _more_ time with her Dad and uncle would help keep her on the straight and narrow. So, no matter what her father said, the trip to Tennessee was no hunt and his overprotectiveness was both unnecessary and detrimental to their mutual agenda. She was becoming older even faster than before, and if stopping that process was the mission, then any time wasted – including the time taken to travel to and from this other hunter- was a ridiculous mistake. Dean Winchester was just going to have to realise that his daughter was no longer a kid. She had her own worries, her own ideas about how to solve them, and was one of the majority stakeholders in this crappy situation. _No one_ was shutting her out of this.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Emma?"

Her uncle was frowning at her with raised eyebrows and she realized that during her rather long introspection, she'd forgotten to answer him.

"Yes, Uncle Sam," Emma replied, fidgeting under his mild glare, "I understand and I'm really sorry. I promise I won't do it again- any of it."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, having one of their brief but silent discussions. After a few moments, her Dad gave her a small nod and said, "Thank you, sweetheart."

Emma smiled at him as Sam kissed the top of her head and left to pack up their gear.

"I love you, baby girl," Dean said quietly, as he pulled her into a hug, "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

Emma nodded, wrapping her arms around him. A minute or two later, Dean let her go, announcing that he and Sam were heading out straight after he talked with Claire.

"We'll discuss more about all of this when I get back, Em. There's….there's some things I need to tell you about now that you're older…" He paused as she looked up at him with a troubled look on her face. His tone softened, "Just stuff about our family that isn't in those books you've been pretending not to read…..another thing we're going to be discussing at length, _really_ soon…"

Emma looked away uncomfortably as Dean continued. "You gotta follow the rules, honey, so you can help me keep you safe, yeah?"

"Okay," she agreed simply.

"Good girl. I'll call you from the road as soon as we know anything, all right? It should only be a day or two. And I want you to listen to Claire while we're gone….."

"I know, Dad."

" _I know, Dad_ ," he mimicked, tickling her side, "Okay, gimme another hug and go take the dishes to the kitchen."

"Uh, is it okay if I stay here, Dad?" Emma asked with a huge yawn, scrubbing at her eyes wearily, "I'm kinda tired."

Dean smiled at the gesture, relieved that things seemed to have calmed down for now. He picked up her bowl, simultaneously drawing her into his side and then ushered her under the covers.

"I'll be back before you know it, honey."

"Okay, Daddy. Call me when you get there."

"Count on it. Have a good nap, kiddo."

Dean switched off the lights as he left, closing the door behind him. He was loath to leave her after the dramatic scene this morning but there wasn't really much choice. He knew that she'd believed _some_ of their reassurances, but Emma was his kid- his 'Mini-Me,' as Sam insisted on calling her every time she did something stupid. That she exhibited more than a few of his character traits, even the more questionable ones, was a good thing in Dean's opinion because it meant she wasn't all Amazon. It was also how he knew that she'd been holding back just a little, putting on a good show of obedience and contrition for their benefit. The sooner they got Madigan's intel, the sooner he could come back home to her.

After hitting the dishwasher, Dean tracked Claire down in the library where he found her surrounded by piles of books, her research into the Amazons in full swing. Dean walked over to her, nodding his approval.

"Found anything?" he asked, snagging a handful of M & Ms from a giant bowl she was snacking from.

"Not yet." Claire smacked his hand, as he went back for seconds. "How's Emma?"

"Napping right now. Did Sam tell you that we're about to head out?"

"Yeah. Do you really think this guy has something? From what Sam said, he sounds like a total nutjob."

"Actually, he's only _partly_ looney tunes, so here's hoping it's just the spineless asshole part of him that's got something to offer. Trust me, I'm not happy about it, but he's our best bet right now."

"Yeah, I know." Claire looked frustrated as she slammed one of the tomes closed and put it on a pile to her left. "How's it even possible that no one has any information on the Amazons? Or that an organization as old as the Men of Letters doesn't have a single paragraph in any of these books about them? I mean, we've all heard about 'em and I've had to watch you pining after Linda Carter like some kind of sixty-year-old comic-book grandpa perve…"

"I don't _pine_ after Linda Carter….much! And who're you calling sixty?"

"…nerding out over a woman who's completely out of your league…."

"Wait…did you just call me _nerdy_?" Dean's face was contorted into a horrified expression, "How dare you!"

Claire grinned at him as he narrowed his eyes and pointed at her. "Take it back! Take it back right now!"

"Seriously, Dean? _That's_ what you object to? What about the _perve_ part?" Claire tried to hide her guffaw when Dean crossed his arms over his chest and glared silently at her.

After a few moments of staring at each other, during which she _just_ managed not to laugh outright, Claire was able to spit out a sincere- _ish_ apology which he accepted begrudgingly. She ignored his ill-grace though, because everyone knew better than to encourage a sulking Dean. One moody kid in the Bunker was enough.

Dean ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, as if clearing her outrageous insults from his mind.

"So, about your question. From personal experience, the Amazons really know how to cover their tracks. Emma came after me, and less than an hour later, they'd completely cleared out their base of operations. Plus, they had a detective working in the Seattle P.D. who I'm sure was _literally_ helping them bury the bodies long before we ever got wind of 'em. There's no way to tell how many other organizations they've infiltrated in order to do the same thing."

Claire stared at him for a moment, her look calculating. "Did you ever research cases with similar characteristics in any of the national databases? I mean, you're right. They've managed to survive for millennia by hiding in plain sight…."

"Yeah and we tried trackin' 'em down when they skipped town. Sam found the same patterns in some older cases outta Chicago and Miami, but nothing after Washington. Five guys, all young and successful, with their hands and feet cut off and artfully carved symbols representing Harmonia's playhouse sliced and diced into their chests."

"And you got some of your information from that professor, right?" Claire asked, flipping through a notepad where she'd been jotting down ideas, "Professor Morrison, Anthropology?"

"Yeah. What're you thinking?"

"I've been going over everything you and Sam've told me, and I've been checking out Morrison online. He's still teaching at the University and I have a friend of a friend that has a contact there. She got me access to their intranet and I managed to dig up traces of a defunct chatroom he used to host for his students about four years ago. Looks like your case inspired him to start a few discussions with his students about Amazonian culture and history. He mentioned gathering material to write a new book about them but I couldn't find any information about it being published. I'm hoping he'll be willing to share what he knows with me during a phone consultation I've scheduled with him tomorrow afternoon. I'm posing as a grad student looking for help on a research study that I'm hoping to get published in Cultural Anthropology. That's a well-respected journal apparently, so his assistant said he was pretty enthusiastic about the interview…." Claire paused, choosing her next words carefully. "Sam gave me the impression that you two had pretty low expectations about whether this Madison guy's info's gonna pan out. I thought that maybe a different perspective on what little we already know might help. Fresh ears, right?"

Dean nodded, looking unfazed. "Yeah, I agree. Great idea, kid. Looks like all that boring book crap Sam's been teaching you is finally getting through. I mean, I was really beginning to wonder if anything could penetrate that hard head of yours…."

"Oh, ha, ha, old man," Claire leveled a fake glare at the now smirking Dean, "Don't you have somewhere you need to be right now?"

"Yeah." he grinned, becoming serious after a moment. "Really Claire, this is good. It's a helluva lot more of a game plan than Sammy and I've managed to come up with. Call us if you find something, okay?"

Claire smiled broadly, basking in the praise though she couldn't help but feel a little guilty. She wanted to help Emma, of course, but she also had motives that were less than noble. She'd been perfectly happy, at first, to play babysitter extraordinaire to help out the boys but now she'd begun questioning her role in the arrangement. Dean and Sam had been trying to hold up their end with the training, just at an agonizingly slow pace. Claire was grateful but their focus was clearly on saving Emma- as it should be. She couldn't help but feel like she was getting lost in the fray and, with her recent missteps not helping matters in the least, self-doubt was starting to creep in. She loved that they clearly saw her as family, even if that meant having to endure the boys' tendency of being soul-crushingly and frustratingly overprotective, but with Emma's accelerated aging, Claire's primary role was swiftly coming to an end. She had to find some way to stay useful or she wasn't sure they'd let her stay…..and she _really_ wanted to stay. Helping the boys figure out how to slow, stop or even reverse Emma's aging was a surefire way to accomplish that.

Dean touched her shoulder briefly in goodbye and left her to it. It was time to get on the road. He found Sam finishing a phone call at the base of the stairs in the Map Room. His brother looked upset though he quickly schooled his features once he noticed that had Dean entered the room. Ordinarily, the older Winchester was more than happy to let his kid brother solve his own dramas, especially as they were almost always boring and usually related to Sam's inordinate need to criticize and police Dean's every vice. From his love of beer, to his perfectly understandable need for daily, elephantine quantities of bacon, nary a day went by when Samantha Winchester didn't find a reason to complain about his older, more handsome brother. But there was something in his expression right now that suggested this was something more than Sam's trademark whining.

"Ready to go?" Sam's attempt at a bright tone failed miserably.

Dean studied his brother for a moment and said, "Well?"

"Huh?" Sam seemed genuinely confused and Dean gave him an exasperated look.

"Didn't you just spend the last hour bawling me out for not _sharing my feelings_? So, what gives? What's with the hangdog look?"

Sam looked flustered briefly, as if he'd been caught completely unawares. "I….I don't know what you mean. Shouldn't we get going?"

Dean scoffed, cocking his head to one-side as he stared. "Okay, Sammy, I guess this is one of those 'practice what I say, not what I do' moments, huh? Hypocritical much?"

"I'm fine, Dean. It's nothing. Let's just head out," Sam returned, annoyed with both himself and his sibling.

"Uh huh," Dean's sarcastic tone grated on his brother's already strained nerves, "Let's go."

Sam followed him down the stairs to the garage in silence. He knew that Dean was stewing because he'd had his rare offer of a 'shoulder to cry on' rejected, but he was just going to have to get over it. Sam really didn't have it in him right now to make nice with Dean because he'd just had a very heated, very ugly argument with Amelia that he knew had ended them forever.

She'd greeted him so enthusiastically on the phone, her voice soft and airy as she'd whispered to him about how much she was already missing the feel of him. Sam's heart had skipped a beat just from the tone of her voice, the sweet memory of their recent intimate encounter bombarding all of his senses simultaneously. It was embarrassing, but not surprising how easily she got to him. Sam had only ever been with three women who'd really meant something to him. He didn't like thinking about Jessica anymore, and his brief but intense relationship with Madison had been more tragedy than love story. But it was Amelia who'd been the one who got away. The thought of losing her again had almost stopped him from going through with it…almost.

Emma was becoming more powerful and her personality more like Dean's every day; a potentially dangerous combination in Sam's view. Adding that to the ongoing threat from the British Men of Letters and Lucifer's latest campaign to stick it to Chuck by either planning for Earth's utter annihilation or his own coronation party, and Sam knew what he had to do. So far, Amelia had managed to remain untouched by the darkness that usually smothered those who got too close to the Winchesters. She'd already taken the first steps to change her life for the better and Lord knew she deserved it. Could he really do this to her? Dragging a civilian into the Supernatural world while tied to him would put a tremendous target on her back. At least Sadie was a cop with the training to defend herself. Amelia was a healer. Could he really bring her into a life where she might have to kill to survive? Boiled down to those terms, Sam didn't think he had much of a choice.

Not knowing what they would find in Knoxville or where it might lead them next, Sam had decided to rip off the proverbial Band-Aid and have his conversation with Amelia before he lost the nerve. With an extremely heavy heart he'd called her, saying that he wouldn't be making any more trips to Shawnee because he couldn't make the kind of commitment to her that she deserved. Things were too complicated right now, their timing was just off, he had family complications, their relationship was likely doomed anyway, it would be better this way…..she'd remained completely silent as he'd rambled through his speech. When Amelia had finally found her voice, she'd begged him to reconsider. Of course, she understood his reluctance, given how things had gone before, but this was their time to finally be together and he wasn't allowed to deny them this chance at happiness. She'd begun to cry, asking if they could meet up again so they could talk this all out, face to face. Sam had apologized for being a coward and doing this over the phone, but he'd insisted that they should just make a clean break and that she'd be better off just forgetting about him.

Amelia had become understandably pissed, letting him know in no uncertain terms, and with a few colourful insults thrown in, just what she thought of his ridiculous, pathetic mansplaining about _her_ feelings and _her_ ability to make her own best choices. He couldn't blame her, of course, because she was absolutely right. When he'd heard Dean approaching, he'd apologized again, pleaded with her to let him go and then he'd hung up, feeling like the biggest asshole to have ever walked the face of the earth. Dean had known immediately that something was up which was really the last thing that Sam needed. When Dean got suspicious, he never let it go. Spending the next fifteen hours trapped with his relentless older brother was more than Sam could currently handle.

* * *

Much to her chagrin, Lydia was impressed. She had to hand it to their captured mercenary, Mr. Wakeman- he'd endured almost all of the tools in their arsenal before he'd finally succumbed to Ellen's 'special' brand of skilled interrogation. Her lieutenant had generously left the human with most of his limbs and at least three of his senses intact. Of course, it wasn't as if they'd had any intention of keeping him alive indefinitely; their captive was just a worker bee and not privy to the more important secrets of his organization's upper management. Now, he was only good for one more thing. His resilience suggested he'd produce strong offspring- something they sorely needed right now. Naturally, the honour would go to Ellen, a reward for a job well done.

It didn't take a broken and bloodied Wakeman however, for the tribe to realise that it found itself in a precarious position. The British Men of Letters had done away with the archane model of individual or small-group hunting, honing their talents over many generations to become an incredibly well organized, well financed, and exceptionally highly motivated multi-national corporation the likes of which the Amazons had never before seen. The women had survived for millennia by ruthlessly minimizing their exposure to the outside world, living only in densely populated cities and even then, never staying in one place for too long. Charlene infiltrating local law enforcement agencies to bury their misdeeds was just the icing on the cake. Their system had worked beautifully right up until they'd crossed paths with the Winchesters and now, five years later and with their might still diminished, those freaking brothers were at the centre of yet another threat to their existence with Emma caught in the middle. From the intel they'd extracted from Wakeman, it was obvious that her daughter was in imminent danger. It seemed that Lydia's plan for poetic justice i.e. having Emma _finally_ kill Dean, wouldn't be nearly enough to satisfy her bloodthirsty need for revenge against the meddlesome human. That would have to wait because first, she had to save Emma. It was time to go in and get her.

* * *

"I don't see why we can't just go in there and get her?" Jeremy stated, his voice rife with frustration, "You've sent Ketch to oversee the operation, we've got additional men down there and more importantly, we _know_ we can bypass their security because you've done it before! We need to get in there before Stokely's man gives up any information….."

"I agree that we need to take action quickly," Toni replied, her tone even despite his growing ire, "but we also have to be smart. I could care less about the Winchester brothers or that girl they've got living with them, but you forget that we've now got Mary Winchester thrown into this mix. I can't go in there with guns blazing and kill her sons just when she's agreed to work with us. After she holds up her end of the bargain and gets the other hunters on board, we can do whatever we want…."

"And how long is that going to take?" Jeremy's voice rose but at Toni's arched eyebrow, he swallowed thickly and reeled himself in, "Weeks? Months? Those mouth-breathing imbeciles are scattered all over this continent!"

"Where has your faith gone, Jeremy?" Toni asked mildly, though she knew exactly why her Number Two was so shaken by recent events, "Surely you realise that I've had a plan in mind before I invited that woman here. True, she upset my timeline and the exact course that I intended to take, but the outcome will be the same. You need to calm down and refocus. Just put that meeting behind you and get back on track because I _need_ you at your best, now more than ever. I don't trust anyone else to protect me or my agenda…."

Jeremy sighed deeply, closing his eyes and rubbing his aching forehead. Lady Bevell was right, of course. He'd been off kilter ever since the Mary Winchester tête-à-tête at the compound. Ketch had been the one to broker the deal to get her there, but Jeremy had been in charge of the team that'd been following Mary across the country, as well as security at H.Q.. He'd failed miserably on both counts.

After their lengthy discussion during which she'd fed them useful details about current life in the Bunker, including information about Claire and Castiel, Mother Winchester had taken off to start her 'recruitment drive' in Chicago but not before handing Jeremy the disabled trigger to her hidden bombs and wishing him a 'happy treasure hunt.' Apparently, she'd only placed three explosives amongst the hundred or so lockers they'd received. As she put it, surely even someone as incompetent as _him_ could find them. Jeremy had held out some hope that maybe she'd been bluffing, but when the devices were located and estimated to contain enough C-4 to take out half the complex, he wasn't deluded enough to believe that his ridiculous underestimation of the woman hadn't diminished his standing in Lady Bevell's eyes. Frankly, he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd put him out of his misery right there and then.

He'd known his boss since they'd been children together at Kendricks Academy. Toni had always been completely out of his league. She was the daughter of Men of Letters aristocracy and he was the son of a factory worker from the poorer outskirts of London who some would argue had no business being recruited into the institution at all. It went without saying, that the other students held strong opinions about their odd friendship. In their eyes, Toni was the typical rich girl who'd found herself a willing pet charity case, teaching him how to dress, how to speak and essentially, how to fit in with the upper echelons of society to which she was accustomed. He, in turn, was the smitten puppy dog who always did her bidding and followed her around like a lovelorn fool. No one really understood their relationship. Yes, he'd initially had a crush on her but only because he'd never met a girl like her before. She was confident, sophisticated, smart and beautiful- even at a very young age and she _liked_ him. She'd let him down firmly but gently, assuring him before even _he'd_ recognised his _own_ feelings, that he was more like a brother to her and that she could never see him _that way_. Once he'd gotten over the embarrassment of just how obvious he must have been to her and the others, they'd forged an unbreakable bond, even in the face of Dr. Hess' penchant for Hunger Games-like contests between the students.

Jeremy was certain that Toni's widely perceived status as princess and heir apparent to the Organisation had afforded her some concessions during their years at the Academy. As her closest ally, that meant that he'd never had to face her in any of the school's brutal tests of obedience and loyalty. Some had considered that kind of preferential treatment a weakness, her accomplishments seemingly tainted by having the deck stacked in her favour. Toni had taken the unspoken criticism to heart, her need to prove the naysayers wrong engendering a cold-blooded ruthlessness in her that, at the tender age of ten, allowed her to kill a student who'd had the audacity to malign the Bevell family honour within her hearing. She'd bided her time for almost a month before she'd cornered the other girl one night after lights out. The horrific aftermath was displayed for all to see. No one was ever accused or punished, but everyone knew who'd done it. Needless to say, no one had ever doubted Toni again.

But they weren't children anymore and the stakes were so much higher now that they'd essentially gone rogue. Jeremy was one hundred percent behind her decision to break away from the M.O.L's 'old guard' because their two-pronged scheme- politely asking the Winchesters to stop pissing off supernatural entities bent on destroying the human race, while also attempting to smoothly assimilate the rest of the inept American hunters into the far superior British model, was misguided at best, and ludicrous in reality. The Winchesters could not be bargained with and their undisciplined, oblivious, counterparts were never just going to fall in line like good little soldiers, even if it was for their own good.

Toni's methods may not have been standard operating procedure, but she'd barely begun her mission before the Organisation had sent their sycophantic yes-man to pat her on the head and send her scurrying back home with her tail between her legs. Mick Davies seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be a heartless lieutenant for the cause obeying any and all orders. That included having his men take out civilian hostages if they got between him and his supernatural prey. But it was all a ruse. Toni had always had an incredible ability to accurately read those around her, and to then use their deepest fears and insecurities to manipulate them to her purposes- a fact that had never been lost on Jeremy. She'd had Mick's number as soon as she'd met him. He was several years older, but even then, she'd known that under his carefully crafted persona, Davies was nothing more than an ambitious, cowardly prick of little substance. He never got his own hands dirty, making up for his many deficits by sucking up to as many of the right people as possible. Lady Bevell had decided that she wouldn't sit back and wait for his inevitable failure and so, surrounding herself with like-minded individuals that she'd been cultivating to her side for years, she'd used her influence with the Council and bullied her way to America first thereby undermining Mick, their first choice. She'd taken Sam as her first act, deciding to tackle the Winchesters first. It was true that things hadn't quite gone to plan, but Toni had assured Jeremy that they were playing the long game while the guileless back home them wrote them off prematurely. This operation required much more cunning and subtlety than a concrete thinker like Davies could ever hope to possess. Turning Emma and/or Mary Winchester to her side would be like achieving the impossible- a tremendous feather in her cap that would go a long way to increasing her already high standing within the Men of Letters. With enough victories behind her and recruits to her cause, she'd be the _only_ logical choicefor the one open position on the board of Elders. She intended to be running the show within five years, her mandate to modernize their guiding principles while eradicating the boy's club that had existed since the early twentieth century. It was her birthright; four of her Uncles and her father had been Elders, while her grandfather had been the longest reigning chancellor before his death seven years ago. As the only surviving Bevell of her generation, it was her duty to reclaim that power in her family's name.

Jeremy had been privy to all of her schemes in the past but now, in the midst of executing her most critical, dangerous and ambitious plan to date, Toni had taken to playing things very close to her chest. That included her unfathomable decision to involve Ketch, of all people. The same Ketch with whom she'd made her biggest and heretofore, _only_ misstep thus far. Theirs had been a torrid, clandestine affair that Jeremy had warned her about repeatedly over its one-year course. Their inevitable implosion had left Toni bitter, angrier than ever and somewhat prone to bouts of rash, ill-advised behaviour. Now, Jeremy found himself questioning her again and if she'd taken 'by any means necessary' too literally when she'd brought that sociopath on board. Worse, it had taken her all of five minutes to use him on their most sensitive missions- establishing contact with Mary and currently, dealing with Stokely's gargantuan mishandling of the Winchester spawn. Was it really a stretch then, for Jeremy to think that he could be in serious trouble after his _own_ bungling?

"I…I thought that…"

"Jeremy, don't insult me by voicing such stupid ideas. We are in this _together_ …." Toni paused as her phone rang. Noting the caller, she put it on speaker. "What is it?"

Ketch's irritating drawl filled the room. "Stokely will no longer be a problem but unfortunately, we have other more immediate concerns. We've found his missing soldiers. One of them, Wakeman, was clearly tortured and there's no way to know what information he gave them. If I had to guess, the Amazons will want to retrieve the child as soon as possible. It's my opinion that we can't wait any longer. If we want to get to Emma Winchester first, we'll have to go in now. Fortunately, an opportunity has presented itself. The Brothers' Winchester left an hour ago and are heading out of state….."

"And how do you know that?" Jeremy asked, frostily.

"Jeremy?" Ketch said with mild surprise, "I didn't think you were party to the details of this mission…."

"I don't appreciate your condescending tone, Ketch!"

"Arthur!" Toni held up her hand, and Jeremy fell silent, "Answer the question."

"One of Stokely's only moments of brilliance. He planted a tracker on that tank that the Winchesters drive. This is our window, Toni, what would you have me do?"

"It's Lady Bevell or Ma'am to you, Ketch. Familiarity on your end only breeds contempt on mine, remember that. All right, execute the plan. Let me know when it's done."

She hung up immediately and turned her disapproving eyes on Jeremy when her phone rang again.

"Yes?" she answered quickly, assuming it was Ketch again.

"That bastard dumped me!" Rachael's loud, enraged screech made Jeremy wince, "Sam Winchester wussed out and now he's not even returning my calls!"

Toni's mouth set into a grim line. "Are you sure you can't salvage the situation?"

"The idiot's sacrificing for his brother again." Rachael's tone was derisive. "When they circle their wagons like this, I don't think there's any point. He's got no place for Amelia right now and any new schemes will only take too long given this Amazon threat."

Jeremy scoffed, his desire to say "I told you so" barely containable.

Toni gave him a scathing look as she replied, "Have you made contact with Ketch?"

"No, but I'm on my way to Lebanon right now."

"Okay, Rachael, Ketch has taken care of Stokely and he's about ready to begin the extraction. I think you'd be invaluable during the breach. Perhaps you can _become_ Castiel's adopted runt and have Emma just walk out with you."

"And what if becomes a little more complicated than that?"

"Remove all obstructions to the mission," Toni answered, simply, "We need to get Emma out _intact_. Anyone else is just collateral damage and that includes Claire Novak. I'll contact Ketch and tell him to expect you."

"Fine. We'll see you soon."

"We've just stepped this thing up to Defcon one. The Winchesters will dedicate themselves to tracking us down," Jeremy said as Toni hung up.

"Not necessarily," she replied, "Mary gave me an idea that will ensure that Sam and Dean look elsewhere for answers. You heard her. The angel has told her quite bluntly that he agrees with her assessment of the child as a danger that needs to be eradicated. Needless to say, it's put a significant strain on his relationship with Dean. If we make it look like Emma is dead and that the angel could have had something to do with it, we may buy ourselves some time…"

"The Winchesters will never fall for that. They may disagree right now, but surely Castiel would never do anything that…..catastrophic . Besides, all he'd have to do is deny it. Can angels even lie….?"

"It won't matter. If what she says is true, and their pet angel really _is_ on such thin ice with Dean, the mere _suggestion_ that Castiel might be involved won't be such a stretch and should be more than enough to break up their bromance for good. That kind of betrayal will be utterly devastating and, having lost one of their greatest weapons, they'll be so much more vulnerable ….." Toni paused seeing the doubtful look on his face. "….Emma will be M.I.A., so Mary will think we've held up our end and will get on with her job. A grieving Dean will be irrational and caught up in the lovely game of revenge against a likely list of suspects that we set for him- Castiel, other hunters with an aversion to mixed breed abominations, their mother, the Amazons, our organisation….."

"And if they choose to start with us?"

"Oh," Toni said with a smug grin, "I misspoke. When I said _our_ organisation, I meant Mick, his lackies and the fools in London. Ketch is going to drop a few breadcrumbs around the Bunker to make sure that the boys are pointed in _all_ those directions. Remember that thanks to Mick, the Winchesters believe that I'm out of the picture. We'll carry on with our agenda while sitting back and waiting for them to destroy each other. We'll deal with whoever's left once the dust settles."

Jeremy exhaled a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He was playing serious catch up here.

"I'm impressed," he said, trying to keep his discomfort hidden, "You've thought of everything."

Toni reached towards him and squeezed his hand. "Things are moving quickly, Jeremy. You're just as important to me as ever, even if I don't tell you everything right away, okay?"

"Of course, Lady Bevell," Jeremy bowed and squeezed her hand in return, somewhat appeased.

"Good!" Toni said with finality, "Let's move on then. The compound needs to be placed on lockdown. From now on, it's shoot first, ask questions later unless I say otherwise."

"Understood," Jeremy nodded, moving quickly towards the office door. Just as he opened it, Toni's voice stopped him.

"Oh and Jeremy," she called out to him, as he turned to face her, "Now that you fully understand how intricate my plans are, and the kind of precision I need to carry them out, I'll expect you to be able to work with _anyone_ I deem necessary to attain that success…."

"Of course, Toni…."

"Wonderful." Her eyes bored into him. "Then you also understand that there is no place for failure on this team. We're playing a very dangerous game here and I intend to come out on top. See that you don't ever put me in a position where I'd have to choose the mission over you. Do you understand?

He swallowed, not bothering to answer, because the comment was rhetorical. He left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

* * *

Claire's eyes flew open when her stomach growled loudly enough to wake her up. She must have been sitting in the library for quite a while if the crick in her neck and the hollowness in her stomach were anything to go by. She stretched, yawning loudly as she pushed away from the table. Her first thought was that she needed to track down Emma and make them both something to eat. She allowed herself a brief moment to fantasize about one of Dean's super bacon cheeseburgers when she reached the girl's room. Claire knocked softly, opening the door when she didn't hear a reply, assuming that Emma might still be asleep.

"Em?" she called, entering the darkened room and smiling at the lump beneath the covers. Checking her watch, she realized that six hours had passed since Sam and Dean had left. If Emma slept any longer, she'd be up all night. Claire grinned as she made her way to the bed, her arm outstretched.

"Up and at 'em, sleepy head," she said in a sing-song voice, shaking the kid's shoulders. Her eyes widened immediately and she ripped the covers off the bed, the two pillows hidden underneath coming into view.

"Emma! Emma, where are you?" She dropped to the floor to scan under the bed and then rushed to the closet, yanking it open as her fear began to grow. Emma was just playing a joke, right? A game of hide and seek like they'd done so many times previously. Trying to calm herself before full blown panic set in, she tried to think of where the girl might be. She rushed around to all the usual spots where they frequently hung out, finding no sign of her whatsoever. After about fifteen minutes of this she went to the 'forbidden' areas, including the dungeon and the gun range, but to no avail. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to clear her mind and think about what to do next. She soon cursed herself for her stupidity. The panic room had surveillance cameras that covered every square inch of the Bunker so, with any luck, she'd find some evidence to show where Emma had gotten to. Then she'd wring her neck.

Claire jogged to the library, moving through the convoluted entry ritual as quickly as she could. When she finally made it inside, she went immediately to the cameras, trying to work out exactly how to pull up the footage she wanted on the ancient system. She was so focused on her task that she almost missed the sudden movement from the corner of her eye.

She stopped and looked up at the screens to the right, wondering if she'd just imagined it. There were over thirty panels, so scanning them systematically from top to bottom and left to right took a while. She was just beginning to think that it'd been a trick of the light, when she caught sight of a strange shadow from one of the cameras in the garage that hadn't been there before. She peered closer, trying to make out what she was seeing. Whatever it was, it wasn't moving. She was about to get back to looking for a means to rewind the security tapes when the shadow moved and in its place was a man in his early forties, wearing a suit and holding a gun. He was motioning to someone else behind him, directing them up the stairs that led to the residence. When that person came into view, Claire's eyes widened and she gasped in shock. It was a girl…..with _her_ face. Her doppelganger was following the man up the staircase, several other armed men fanning out behind her on the landing at the top.

Claire roused herself out of her momentary stupor and reached for her cell, cursing loudly when she realized she'd left it on the table in the library. She looked back at that screen; the group was opening the upper garage door and filing stealthily into the corridor already. Did she have enough time to leave the panic room and retrieve her phone? She swore under her breath again when she remembered it wouldn't work in there anyway. Okay, she'd try the rotary. When she put it to the receiver to her ear, she almost yanked it out of the control panel. The bastards had known how to cut the line to the outside. Were these the British Men of Letters? After all, who else would know how to do that? Somehow, she had to get to Emma.

She rummaged around in the back of the pantry for the old-fashioned flour tin where she'd stashed a Beretta- one that she'd 'borrowed' from the Bunker's arsenal and placed there when Dean had first showed her the room. Claire had never had much faith in the notion of things just 'working themselves out'- that old lie had never remotely done her any favours, so she'd made sure to have an insurance policy in case of emergencies. If she got out of this alive, Dean would have to shut up about her access to the guns.

Methodically, she checked it over as she studied the monitors again. They'd reached the kitchen and were spreading out from there. She sucked in a big breath when she heard "Fake Claire" tell the men to find Emma and to kill Claire if they saw her. She was out of options now. Emma was somewhere in the Bunker unprotected and they were after her. She took another big breath, intending to open the door, when she saw the man in the suit making a beeline for the panic room. She was trapped, her only options surrender or kamikaze suicide mission. She couldn't let them take Emma but tearing out of the room and getting herself killed immediately was no plan at all.

Claire cried out in frustration, closing her eyes and feeling unbidden tears streaking down her face. She'd failed Sam and Dean, she'd failed Emma and she'd proven everyone right. She wasn't a real hunter, just a pathetic little girl playing at being one. No wonder Castiel had…. _Castiel_!

She prayed as hard as she could, pleading with the angel to forgive her and to come to their rescue. She promised to listen to him from now on and to never doubt him again, replaying the words over and over again in her mind. She waited a few seconds, expecting to hear the flutter of wings that would mean a chance at life, but nothing happened. She tried again, wondering if maybe the panic room was warded so well that even an angel couldn't hear her. Feeling utterly defeated, she sank to her knees staring at the five men who were now attempting a brute force breach of her hiding place. She closed her eyes again, praying that Emma had hidden herself well enough to hold on for some miracle when she heard it- rapid gunfire. She practically flew off the floor, immediately finding the source. Five women were making their way from the garage staircase, fanning out and taking out soldiers in their wake.

"Find Emma!" the blonde one who was clearly in charge directed the others, "Kill them all!"

Well, it didn't take a genius to work out who _they_ were. The reddened skin around their eyes? The way one of them tossed a soldier across the room with her bare hands while the sickening crack of his spine made her wince? The Amazons were here for their lost child.

The next twenty minutes were sheer pandemonium. The noise from the gunfire, the screaming, the chunks of wall, glass and priceless artefacts exploding all around the Bunker, were almost enough to drown out the death throes of those not fortunate enough to die quickly. Claire tried to ignore all of it during her frantic search of the screens. If these two groups of dicks would just hurry up and cancel each other out, she and Emma might still have a chance. Honestly, she didn't believe that and she knew that she was right when "Fake Claire" took on the features of one of the Amazon women after she'd killed her.

"Shapeshifter," she whispered out loud to herself, thinking just how much more bizarre this nightmare was getting.

With her new face, Formerly Fake Claire suckered one of Amazons into an ambush in the library where four soldiers lay in wait. The hail of bullets aimed center mast at her exploded out the back of her torso grotesquely, leaving a single remaining Amazon. The blonde leader, subdued at gunpoint, was dragged into the room by four soldiers.

She'd been badly hurt; one of her eyes had swollen shut and she'd clearly taken a bullet to the shoulder. The man in the suit ('Claire' called him _Ketch_ ) followed behind _,_ ordering the Amazon woman to her knees. His voice was almost melodic, his calm upper crust British accent almost cartoonish in the wake of all the devastation around him.

"You'll tell me _now_ , Lydia, where is your daughter?"

"Don't you know?" she seethed, as one of the soldiers hit her in the back with the butt of his rifle, "You've been watching this place almost as long as I have, haven't you? With your resources, I'm surprised you need _my_ help."

Ketch nodded to the soldier and this time he struck her in the temple. Lydia groaned softly, her eyes watering with the pain, as Ketch repeated his question. The red around her eyes deepened, hatred radiating from them.

"Is that it? That's all you've got? You're pathetic! No wonder Wakeman squealed like a little girl when we gutted him. The stench when he lost control of his bladder….well, you get the picture….….Arggh!"

The soldier beside her kicked her in the stomach with a steel-toe boot, and she doubled over, blood bubbling up out of her mouth as she broke out into an almost maniacal laugh. Ketch's cool façade dropped a little, the frustration evident in his face.

"We don't have time for this…. _Amazon_ ," Ketch stepped in front of Lydia, his tone revealing his obvious distaste, "I need to find your bastard daughter and then I have to pick up my dry-cleaning, so if you don't mind…."

Lydia spat blood all over the bottom of his pants and shoes, her expression defiant as she stared up at him in silence.

"What if I promise not to hurt her?" Ketch sneered, as he stepped back, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping off his shoes, "I'll even give you a quick death as an added incentive for your cooperation."

Lydia turned her head away from him and Ketch sighed, tossing the now bloodied cloth onto the floor.

"Well, this has been a royal waste of time," Claire 2.0 said, "What do we do?"

"Not at all, Rachael," Ketch said, giving her a grim smile, "The girl and her babysitter are likely hiding in the panic room right now, and we already have ourselves an Amazon female with a biological imperative to reproduce. I'd say we're done here. Get her loaded up!"

He nodded towards Lydia who let out a cry as 'Rachael' stuck her in the neck with a long needle. It only took a few seconds before she became unconscious and they were dragging her body out of the room.

"Are you sure about this?" 'Rachael asked, doubtfully, "It's not exactly what the boss asked for."

"Winchester's daughter would certainly be a tremendous accomplishment, but _the boss_ will just have to get over the loss of bragging rights. I'm offering a potential _army_ of Amazons….what more could one ask for?"

"I admire your courage, Ketch." She gave a small laugh, as Ketch frowned at her.

"Leave it to me, shifter, I know how to handle her."

"I'm gonna tell her you said that!"

Ketch took a moment to glare at Rachael who smirked at him and then he turned to the rest of the men.

"Commence Phoenix protocol- six minutes! Time to restore some dignity to this once honorable edifice."

"I'd pay good money to see Winchester's face when he gets back here," Rachael said as she walked over to one of the bookshelves.

"Feel free to ready the popcorn then, because I'm quite sure that we'll have front seats to his revenge tour very soon. The Winchesters are painfully predictable when it comes to matters of family. I, for one, am looking forward to _personally_ telling Dean Winchester that I killed his little girl."

The soldiers in the room followed the shifter's lead, dragging books off the shelves and throwing them into a huge pile near the centre of the room. Claire straightened up, her eyes widening as she understood their intent. One of them took out a lighter and held the open flame flush with the corner of one of the tomes. He tossed it carelessly onto the pile as one of the others poured lighter fluid on the same stack of books. The men spread out across the Bunker, starting a bunch of fires in a number of areas including the kitchen, the living area and the Map Room. It only took a few minutes for the entire place to become engulfed and as his team fled the Bunker, Ketch walked slowly out of the library, picking up a random book along the way, flipping through a few of its pages and then letting it fall to the ground.

As Claire looked on in horror, Ketch turned back towards the burning room and, with a smirk on his face, looked directly at the main hidden camera and shrugged in fake apology. Then he spun around and moved quickly to the garage exit, the last of his men barring the door behind him. Claire opened the panic room door, her hand immediately coming to cover her nose and mouth against the fumes. She moved past the fiery tables on her way to the living area, the noxious smoke producing a paroxysmal cough that threatened her progress just as much as the falling books, shelves and plaster.

"Em…Emma!" she half choked, frantically heading to the bathroom and wetting one of the towels. She held it up to her face and continued down the row of bedrooms, as far along the corridor as she could bear. The heat and smoke made her turn back after only a minute, and she quickly began losing all hope of finding the girl before she was overcome. Claire stumbled out to the hallway, heading towards the Map room and the stairs that led to the Bunker's unassuming front entrance. There was so much smoke that she could barely see a foot in front of her. Eyes burning, she tripped over something and fell heavily to her knees, taking a moment to get over the shock before she began crawling towards the iron staircase. Coughing uncontrollably, precious minutes flew by before she realized that she wasn't making much progress. Only halfway up the stairs, her limbs felt so heavy that she couldn't even hold the towel anymore. Not that it had made much of a difference; she was breathing in pure smoke, anyway.

With her heart pounding in her ears and a feeling of futility washing over her, she curled into a foetal position and laid her head down on her hands, noting abstractedly that the map table on the floor below was disintegrating under the intense heat. She could feel her own clothes melting away and her skin start to blister as the metal staircase began to burn red hot under her. The pain….the pain was indescribable and Claire begged for these to be her last few moments on earth.

It was true. Your whole life flashed before your eyes when you died. She imagined Sam's sad smile and hoped that he wouldn't mourn for her for too long- she'd made a poor substitute daughter anyway. She prayed that Dean would eventually forgive her for not protecting his child, knowing that he never would because nothing on earth was more important to him than Emma. Jody and Alex. They'd know not to blame themselves, wouldn't they? _She_ was the one who'd chosen to leave Sioux Falls, so this was all on her.

As she began to lose consciousness, she felt some peace in the knowledge that she'd be seeing her parents again and she smiled. Her eyes closed as she let go, the darkness finally beginning to encompass her when she heard a voice say, "Get away from her!" and then felt her body being lifted in the air. A cool, fresh breeze surrounded her, easing her suffering as she floated ever higher, her eyes automatically fluttering open. She could barely make out the dark-haired figure who held her close as they moved the rest of the way up to the landing, completely untouched by the flames around them. He looked young, her age, and he stared down at her in concern as the door to the Bunker blasted outward, as soon as they stepped in front of it. She lifted her hand to touch his face and he stared down at her intently, her burst of strength quickly failing her as her arm flopped back to her side.

"You're safe, Claire," he said, his voice calm and soothing as they stepped into the afternoon sunshine, "Sleep now."

Claire's eyes rolled back in her head and everything went black.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

"I'm starving," Dean muttered, not bothering to look at Sam, "We're stopping at the next place I see."

"Fine," Sam sighed, more tired than he could've ever thought possible.

His brother's tendency towards being passive-aggressive was in fine form today. They'd left the Bunker several hours ago pretty angry with each other and nothing had changed in hundreds of miles. Initially, when Sam had tried to engage Dean in a conversation about what they might expect with Madigan, the older Winchester had only offered one-word answers presented as unintelligible grunts. Sam had shut up after a few attempts, left to stew in frustration while his brother pretended he didn't exist. Well, he'd had enough. He turned in his seat, glaring at Dean who staunchly ignored him.

"Don't you think we need to have a serious conversation about the Emma problem?"

Dean's eyes momentarily widened in surprise before he scowled at the road ahead of him. "What _Emma_ _problem_?"

Sam overlooked the belligerence and defensiveness in his brother's tone in order to get an actual dialogue started. He decided to begin with something….easy.

"She has to learn how to socialize and interact with the outside world, Dean. And what about school? She can't just spend the rest of her life holed up in the Bunker."

"Your nerd brain always circles right back to the books, doesn't it? We've all been reading with her and clearly she's good with iPads and technology…"

"Yes, and her vocabulary's been developing way beyond her years…"

"Look Sam, we both know she can't go anywhere until she stops ageing. In the meantime, you can put some of those mathlete smarts you spent the nineties bragging about, and teach her yourself. Kids get homeschooled, right? And maybe we get her watching more Netflix, you know, after school specials and at least the first five seasons of Full House…." Dean paused when he saw the look on Sam's face. "What?"

"I'm already looking into educational programs and I've written to some of the relevant departments for starting materials…." Sam paused, wincing like what he was about to say was causing him physical discomfort, "….And as painful as it is to admit this, I actually kind of agree with you. No one wants a repeat of the park, so if some overdramatized sitcom can act as a starting block…"

"There's nothing _overdramatic_ about Full House, Sam," Dean retorted indignantly, "It's an American classic! It's delivered so many important, thought-provoking messages on any number of serious issues to kids and all within well-packaged half-hour nuggets of weekly programming!"

The two were silent for a few moments, Sam trying his best to bite his tongue against commenting on Dean's impassioned defense of….

"Shut up!"

"I didn't say anything!"

"Yeah, but you were thinking it!"

"Dean, you've shut me down every time I've tried to bring this up and now we're almost out of time. Em could turn sixteen any day and yeah, we've done everything we could these past few weeks, but can you honestly say that we've got an actual plan for what we're going to do if she goes after you?"

"No one's gonna touch her!" Dean's knuckles whitened from the force of his grip on the steering wheel.

"I'm not suggesting anything like that," Sam replied placatingly, knowing how upsetting this was for his brother, "but we need to have contingencies in place. When I was hooked on demon blood…."

"I don't wanna lock her up in a cell, Sam."

"Neither do I, but for her safety, and yours, I think we have to consider it. You can't tell me that her sudden change in attitude isn't freaking you out. We can claim that it's just a normal part of growing up, but with every argument she becomes more and more aggressive! She could have killed that kid in the park, Dean!" Sam realized that he was practically shouting in frustration and took a few breaths to calm himself before starting again. "Look, right now she's desperately trying to make sense of all this and her place in our world. And thank goodness she's still worried about what we think of her, but soon she's gonna be physically stronger than us, with a bad attitude and your frustrating habit of reacting without thinking. When she finally realizes all that, how are we gonna stop her when she'll be able to wipe the floor with us without breaking a sweat?"

"Wow, thank God you're here to explain it all to me, Captain Obvious?" Dean bit out sarcastically, glancing briefly at his glaring brother, "You think you're telling me something I don't know? You think I want her attacking every male who stares at her cross-eyed? Or that I somehow forgot that she'll soon be capable of gutting me like a fish if she ever feels like it?"

"So, what's your idea, then?"

"If things get really desperate, I….I was thinking that I might have to let her go. Jody…..," Dean muttered, shaking his head like he couldn't believe the words that'd come out of his own mouth, "Look, it'd only be if she starts to turn and just until we can work out what to do. I don't want her hurting anyone and I don't want anyone hunting her. There's a solution to this, Sammy, I know there is. We just need more time."

"Are you sure? Is Jody really gonna be able to handle….."

"We've talked it over and I asked Claire about going back to Sioux Falls with Emma if it comes to that. Alex will be out of the house soon and Em's gonna want someone she trusts with her. Claire's promised she'll think about it, but I know she'll do it."

"And when were you thinking about asking _me_?" Sam protested stiffly, this information coming as a complete shock to him, "Did you think that maybe _I_ might like to weigh in about any of this? I could leave and take Emma and Claire with me if we had to…"

"You're a man too, Sam, and unless you've forgotten, you're the one that killed her the first time. If history's set to repeat itself, she might not let you get the drop on her this time."

"Fine. Let's say we have a dumb plan B and a dumber plan C-Sioux falls or reinforced room."

"Yeah, dumb and dumber….fine!"

They were both silent again, lost in their own thoughts. Forty minutes later, they pulled into a Biggerson's parking lot and went inside. The tension between them was again set to nuclear, conversation back to the bare minimum. After twenty minutes, they were back on the road, a good hour out from their destination on the outskirts of Downtown Knoxville. Madigan's quirks were surprisingly well known for someone as reclusive as he was. Holding no fixed address, he usually roamed around the country, camping in parks and forests and generally living off the grid while somehow managing to chase down case after case. He had no electronic devices of his own, randomly accessing the Hunter forum and his numerous dark web email accounts via internet cafes and public libraries. The fact that they were meeting him at something as pedestrian as a Best Western off the I-70 E was likely a testament to just how rattled his current hunt must be making him.

The Impala pulled into the nearly full parking lot of the motel around nine p.m. The brothers remained in the car for a few minutes, surveying the area before they got out to make their way to room 320. Dean was rather surprised by how upscale the place looked. Madigan didn't exactly have a reputation for spreading cash around and this wasn't the usual hunter dive. It was also possible that he was doing something ingenious. If he _was_ in trouble because of this case he needed their help with, perhaps doing the opposite of his usual M.O. was a deliberate tactic.

Heading up the stairs, Dean subtly felt for his gun. He didn't really like walking into _unknown_ situations with _known_ crazies. He wasn't above putting a bullet in a non-vital part of this guy if he had to. When they arrived at their destination he and Sam gave each other a look.

"Here we go," he muttered, knocking on the door.

It took at least a minute before the door cracked open and a voice from within said, "It's open."

Sam cocked his head slightly and pushed the door aside. He and Dean made their way in and closed it behind them. One look at Madigan and it was obvious that the years had not been kind. He looked like he hadn't slept in at least a decade and hadn't had a decent meal in months. His eyes held the kind of loco that instantly made Sam want to turn around and leave. Whatever was about to go down was going to be painful.

"Madigan," Dean said hesitantly in greeting, a few seconds having passed without anyone saying a word.

"You….you're not them…good, good…"

Dean glanced at his brother. "Not who?"

"Uh, we'll get to that. So, uh, Winchesters, you made good time…."

"We're motivated," Sam deadpanned, "It's been a long drive, Madigan, so how 'bout we get to it."

"Yes, yes, of course," Madigan seemed nervous as he turned and made his way over to the bed by the far wall. On top was a large whiteboard propped against the wrought-iron headboard, to which he'd tacked perhaps hundreds of photos strung together with at least ten differently coloured pieces of yarn. For an evidence board, it was utter chaos and reflected the state of the room around them.

Madigan's clothes were everywhere, the balls of yarn he'd been using strewn across the room like he'd been playing catch with himself. Worse, there was something sticky all over the floor that got more and more tenacious with every step.

"Okay, okay," he said, picking up the board and bringing it over to them. He tripped at the edge of the bed and the whole thing dropped to the floor, pictures flying everywhere.

"Jesus, man!" Dean rushed forward to help him up, as Sam picked up the ruined board that was now cracked in half.

"You okay, Madigan?" Sam asked, looking at Dean with eyebrows raised.

Dean gave a small shrug in response. He made sure Madigan was steady on his feet before he said, "Look, we don't need to do show and tell. You have information for us and you want our help with a case, so let's do this."

"You're right. Let's get down to brass tacks," Mads smiled nervously at them, his arm unconsciously jiggling and his hand rhythmically opening and closing around a Manilla folder, "The case I have isn't very complex, lads, but I'm outnumbered and I've never heard of a group of 'em this big. I mean, it took me a while to even figure out what they were! I heard it through the grapevine that you've come across 'em before, so I thought that made you the ideal candidates to help me out. Then your S.O.S. popped up on the Network; it was kismet. So, I called. Figured we could hash out a little quid pro quo…."

"You don't seem any closer to reaching the point, Madigan!" Dean was beyond being civil, it seemed. Frankly, he was already regretting this trip. Sure he was desperate but he wasn't stupid. 'Mads' was being conspicuously and annoyingly squirrelly and was sorely testing the bounds of Dean's already depleted patience. The longer this game took to play, the more the older Winchester was ready to shoot him in the face and return home to his daughter.

Madigan eyed Dean, his own anger at the remark apparent in his eyes. He quickly sobered though, schooling his features and continuing as if he'd never been interrupted.

"I did a job in New Hampshire back in '85 investigating the spate o' kids that went missin' up and down the northeast. No one seemed to care much when it was runaways' body parts that were showin' up all over the Apple, but when five hoity-toity families up in Concord reported that their precious heirs' limbs were dirtyin' up their swimming pools and tennis courts, the media finally took some notice. That's when I got involved. Took me a coupla weeks to catch wind o' that bitch…."

"What does this have to do with…."

"I'm getting to it Winchester!" Madigan practically shouted, immediately recoiling at his own tone.

Sam glanced over at Dean whose eyes had narrowed dangerously. His brother was on the edge and Sam got ready to move in case he decided to do something rash.

"Like I was saying, the bitch that was killin' _and eatin'_ these kids was a Lamia. I'd never heard of one or seen another since…."

"Wisconsin." Sam whispered.

"Yes, Wisconsin. Seemed _my_ lamia had an ulterior motive in movin' the buffet over to New Hampshire. One of the victim families, the Millers, had a vast collection of Greek artefacts. That monster tried makin' a snack outta their daughter but I got to her in time and the lamia fled the house with some of their stuff- statues, medallions….guess she was homesick or something? Didn't really stop to ask her motivation when I chased her down and cut off her head. After, I took all that artefact shit back to the very grateful Millers who gave me twenty grand for the trouble and to keep my mouth shut. I moved onto the next job a week later and tried puttin' her outta my mind, but one thing kept scratching at my brain. I understand having a hobby, but why would a lamia also be moonlighting as a closet art thief? I started doing some research into the stuff she took- the medallions and the like, I could understand 'cause they're near priceless on the black market, but there was one piece I couldn't figure out. It was out of place, you know? Looked like it'd been put through the ringer a time or two. Long story short…"

"Thank Chuck for that," Dean muttered.

"….I'm pretty sure that it was Hippolyta's belt….."

All three men were quiet for a moment while that news sunk in.

"As in the Queen of the Amazons?" Sam asked in disbelief, as a grim Dean turned to him and asked what the hell Amazon fashion accessories had to do with anything.

"Dean," Sam said, excitement filtering into his voice, "Hippolyta's girdle- Hercules' ninth of his twelve labours? It was given to her by Ares as a symbol of her authority and power over her fellow Amazons…."

"Man knows his Greek Mythology," Madigan nodded towards Sam, "It's a pretty obscure theory and most o' those callin' themselves experts strongly feel that it's just ridiculous fiction, but there are some others that believe it might've been even more than a symbol….that it might actually be a kind of talisman that holds the source of their powers. The common theory is that after the belt was stolen by Hercules, everythin' kinda went to hell for the whole tribe. Hippolyta was either killed right then or kidnapped and forced to marry after she lost the belt. The Amazons didn't take it well and went to war- the Attic War where they were defeated by the Athenians…..and on and on. I'm not sure how the belt might work or even if it will, but I'm guessin' by how desperate you seem, you must be havin' one doozy of a problem with Amazons. Ladies too strong for you guys? Is that why you need something like this belt? Your message on the Forum was short on the details….."

Dean and Sam looked at each other, their silent conversation stretching over several moments while Madigan stared between them and his watch.

"Okay Madigan," Dean broke the silence, "You've got yourself a deal. So….?"

"Rakshasa- at least ten of them."

"Wow," Sam scoffed, "You're gonna have to be a helluva lot more careful when we go up against them, Madigan. You realise that just by sayin' "door's open," and allowing us in, you willingly gave up your best protection against them?

"Are you trying to tell me something, Winchester?" Madigan's laugh was humourless, his eyes widening slightly as his hand inched not too subtly closer to the brass knife on the end table beside him.

"Chill, man," Dean looked pointedly at the Irishman's arm, "We're us. Just show us what you got."

The three spent thirty minutes hashing out a plan of attack. It was going to be a bit easier this time around i.e. no clowns- for which Sam was eternally grateful, but the Rakshasa had certainly diversified. From maid service to singing telegrams, it was no wonder they'd been enjoying a 'Kentucky Fried Smorgasbord,' unabated for the past few months. It was a short time later that a knock on the door put all those in the room instantly on full alert.

"Expecting company?" Dean asked, drawing his Walther and edging towards the door.

Sam followed suit, making his way to the other side of the door so that he and Dean flanked both sides of it.

"Uhhhh….no…I mean, not really…."

"Madigan!" Dean growled, his eyes darting back and forth between the man and the door, "What's going on?"

"It's okay, Winchester, they just wanna talk with ya."

Madigan raced to open the door as Sam lunged to cut him off. A familiar, but unwelcomed face waited for them on the other side.

"Sam. Dean." Mick Davies entered the room cautiously with his arms outstretched. He was followed by what the brothers assumed were three of his soldiers, the last of which locked the door behind him.

"Oh look, it's the whole band. What're you doin' here, One Direction?" Dean pointed his gun at Mick's head.

"I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or …"

"Not. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure we made it clear last time that you and your psycho colleague could go straight to Hell…."

"Toni doesn't speak for the Organisation any longer. She's…gone rogue and will be dealt with accordingly…."

"So, you figured you'd gain our trust by ambushing us?" Sam asked, the exasperation evident in his voice, "You've got nothing we want."

"Actually, Sam, I beg to differ on that point. Mr. Madigan's no doubt been telling you about his Rakshasa problem…."

"Yes, he appears to be just as full of bullshit as you are." Dean glared at the Irishman. "It's been real, Mads. Glad to see you making friends with the Brits here. Seems like stories about your inability to play well with others have been greatly exaggerated. Have fun in the sandbox, boys. Sam, let's go."

"Not so fast," Mick said, blocking Dean's way, "You may want to hear what I have to say."

"I don't like being this close to you, Davies," Dean whispered dangerously, "and frankly, I'm just not in the mood for story time….."

"You've got two minutes," Sam said, lowering his gun and giving Dean an inscrutable look.

Davies bowed his head in thanks ignoring the death glare that Dean was giving to him. "Mr. Madigan has been courting us for the past few weeks, trying to prove his worth. He's got a rather 'checkered' reputation, as you know. Frankly, he's not our _usual_ type of employee. We tend to recruit people who are more, forgive me for saying, 'hive minded'…."

"That rules us out too, doesn't it?"

Mick ignored Dean's interjection.

"….but when he came across your coded request for help on the Hunter Forum, he knew he might have found a way in. All this was his idea, actually. He _did_ have a problem with a hoard of Rakshasa but they were quickly dispatched. As we speak, I'm sending my men to appropriate the Girdle for safekeeping. Mr. Madigan was then free to arrange this meeting for us. In exchange, he'll continue his work as a hunter but now, he'll have the full backing of our Organisation including access to our superior technology and the strength of our army here in the States. We're hoping to come to an equally profitable understanding with you and your brother. We'll give you the Girdle and all you have to do is agree to come take a closer look at our operation here in the U.S. I think that if you give us a chance, you'll see that we _are_ the future of hunting."

Sam looked at Dean whose face was stony although his eyes were fearful. They'd never given the precise reason why they needed help with Amazons on the Forum, but who knew how long these British dicks had been keeping tabs on them. Did they know about Dean's one-night-stand with Lydia and, by extension, Emma? Even if they did, surely they would know by now that Sam had killed her years ago. Her recent 'rebirth,' however, was another matter. Seeing Davies again was an unwelcome reminder of the B.M.O.L.'s ability to infiltrate the Bunker at will so really, they couldn't be sure of anything Davies might know.

"So now you're a sell-out, Madigan?" Dean spat scornfully at the Irishman, who took on a defensive tone.

"You've got some nerve, Winchester! The reputation of hunters in America is shit because of the two of you! Davies told us all about it. You morons have been traipsing around this country destroying everything in your path without impunity… for _years_! It's a little rich for you to be judging the way I choose to fight in your wake. I'm tired. Tired of wandering with no connection to anyone or anything and always struggling to fight an ever expandin' roll of monsters. The British Men of Letters have this work down to a science, man! They run a well-oiled machine that just makes sense. They can rid the entire continent of these _clann soith_ on a scale we could only dream of. I'm sorry, boys, but your history of repeatedly screwing the rest of the world doesn't exactly give you any moral high ground over me, so you know what? Fuck you!"

"Well you sure told me," Dean said flatly, the sarcasm dripping off every word, "Glad you've enjoyed the Kool-aid they've been feeding you...or do you Brits call it 'cordial?' If you'll excuse me, Sam and I have anywhere else to be."

The brothers moved towards the door again, but this time, Mick's goons blocked the way.

"You wanna call off the Werewolves of London?" Dean asked calmly, the gun heavy in his hand. He wasn't used to being the sucker in any situation, and the fact that these liars had gotten his hopes up had him on the near side of murderous.

"Please Dean, Sam," Mick held up his hands again, his tone placating, "I don't know what your Amazon problem might be, though we'd be more than willing to help you. I must say we've never encountered them in England before so the opportunity to do so now would be most educational. Nevertheless, I am not lying to you. We'll have the Girdle very soon and, if legend is correct, it might help you wipe the Amazons out once and for all. We're…. _I'm_ more than willing to give it to you. We've already had a number of other hunters who've seen our set up decide to join us. All I'm asking is that you come up to Virginia and see what the fuss is about, so to speak. If you like what you find, we might be able to come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. We all want the same thing, right? To rid this country of its supernatural scourge? I apologise for Lady Bevell's heavy-handed approach but I can assure you, that's not how we operate….."

"I don't trust anything you say," Dean said, staring down the soldier who directly blocked his path out of the room, "Your one chance at diplomacy died when that bitch tortured my brother…"

"What about Lucifer?" Madigan piped in angrily, "You think no one knows what you've been doin' this past year? You, your brother and your pet angel released The Darkness' evil onto the Earth, and then had to run to Lucifer to help you clean up your mess? Do you know how many good hunters died because you two arrogant gobshites decided that saving each other was more important than _all of mankind_! What? You didn't think anyone fuckin' knew that you killed Death? The Brits here have been _very_ open about the state of affairs in this country. Learned all about some of your 'close calls' over the past decade and how many times the rest of us could have been obliterated because of your _fuck-ups_! You two may live in your own self-righteous little bubble but let me let you in on a little secret, the prevailing opinion amongst most of our community is that you're almost worse than _any_ of the other monsters out there! How high does the body count have to be 'fore you'll swallow that Winchester pride and realise that you're more the problem than the solution? Davies and his crew have the right idea and it'd be in your best interests to fall in line. But let's be honest, that'll never happen, will it? You two've got the same overinflated, smug, self-congratulatory ego that your vaunted father had! I bet if that prick could only see what his precious little boys had become, he'd have probably thought twice 'fore he laid into that bint you call your moth….!"

"Dean!" Sam rushed his brother, knocking the gun out of the way just as the shot rang out in the room.

It missed the Irishman by inches. All hell broke loose after that.

The 'werewolves' charged towards the Winchesters who were clearly outnumbered. The ensuing fight was ugly. Dean had been the soldiers' first target, two of them moving to tackle him immediately. The three fell heavily to the ground, knocking the bed to the left, which in turn upset the bedside table sending its contents flying across the room. The third man had gone after Sam, his attempt to immobilise him quickly with a targeted punch to the trachea, only partially successful. Sam's shout stuck in his throat at the impact, though thankfully he found himself still able to breathe despite the horrific agony that was spreading across his neck. Dean's gun was being wrestled away from him though he fought against it tooth and nail. Mick kept shouting over the melee, ordering his men to _only_ subdue the brothers and in turn, insisting that the Winchesters stand down. He drew his own gun and shot Madigan in the head, preventing him from doing the same to Dean.

Mick released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. His men had managed to gain the upper hand on the Winchesters. Since they'd decided to be stubborn, he was going to have to make them 'unwilling guests' at his headquarters. It was probably better this way. "Hosting' the brothers would help him put some points back in the win column which he desperately needed if his insider information about Toni's progress was to be believed. Before he could even give the order to get Dean and Sam ready for transport, the door to the room exploded inwards, causing everyone to duck for cover as large slabs of wood and plaster went flying overhead.

"What the hell?" One of the soldiers exclaimed when he saw who was standing in its place.

Fight forgotten, the others all turned towards the door, varying degrees of surprise on their faces. She was obviously just a kid, maybe twelve or so, but the look on her face was anything but childish. Her rage was almost palpable and indeed, the air in the room seemed to vibrate with it. It was her eyes though, that really unnerved them. Their deep ruby colour and the reddened halo of skin surrounding them, gave her a frighteningly demonic look that belied her age.

"Emma?" Dean's voice was tremulous as he looked at his daughter. "Honey, I need you to calm down…."

Whatever else he was going to say died on his lips as, without warning, she flew towards the soldier to the right of her father. The man dropped to the ground like a bag of rocks, Emma's hands already encasing his head. With an inhuman cry, she began to pound it into the carpet-covered concrete below. Everyone in the room was paralysed with shock for just a moment longer before they leapt into action almost simultaneously. With Dean facing one less asshole, he was able to quickly get the upper hand on the remaining mercenary. Mick remained on the sidelines reluctant to step into the fray, not wanting to hurt the Winchesters but unsure about what to do about this unforeseen turn of events.

"Emma… _EMMA_!"

Sam heard Dean's shout and spun around to see him trying to pull her off the now unconscious third soldier. She growled, scrabbling to get back to the man beneath her, catching her father with an elbow to the face in the process. He fell back onto his butt temporarily dazed and Sam bolted over to her, grabbing her in a bear hug and calling her name. She was completely oblivious to that though, being so focused on the 'prey' in front of her. She managed to pry herself free of his arms, spinning around to stare him down. Sam could see a flicker of recognition in her eyes, but it was fleeting and gave way to a bloodcurdling scream as she snatched at his shirt, trying to claw at his chest with her hands.

"Emma! Em, stop! It's Uncle Sammy! Honey, please, I don't want to hurt…!"

His niece suddenly started to shake violently, the unmistakable crackling of a deployed Taser cutting through all other sounds in the room. Sam looked over in horror to Mick Davies who'd finally figured out his next move. Dean, back on his feet, rushed forward to rip the probes from her back while Sam caught her before she could face-plant onto the floor.

"Back off! I just stopped her from mauling your brother!" Mick raised his gun to fend off Dean, who disarmed him alarmingly easily. He had the same maniacal look in his eyes as the girl. Had the younger Winchester actually just called himself, _Uncle Sammy_? Mick shook his head in disbelief, the amazement evident on his face. "She's yours, isn't she Dean? My God! Is this part of what Toni's been….."

"You're not going to say a fucking word about her, Davies!" Dean had dropped the gun and pulled out his angel blade, pressing it against Davies' throat so that the point pierced his skin, his hand shaking with barely contained rage, "Not a fucking word about my daughter….."

"I understand now, Dean," Mick said gently, the implications of this revelation swirling through his head, "She's your little girl and you want to protect her, but _clearly_ you need all the help you can get. Has she attacked _you_ yet?"

"So, you've chosen the 'blade through the windpipe' option- awesome!" Dean tightened his grip on Mick who pulled ineffectually at his hand.

"It doesn't matter, Dean!" Mick gasped against the sharp pain from the laceration, "There's been chatter….leaks from Toni's camp that she's had the inside track on something or some _one_ who was gonna help her control you."

The dangerous glint in Winchester's eyes made Mick briefly reconsider the next part but, unlike Lady Bevell and some others in the Organisation, he firmly believed that open dialogue and cooperation were the best way for American hunters and their British counterparts to make headway in consolidating their forces. The brothers were stubborn to a fault, and Mick'd been pissed that that idiot Madigan had let it slip that he'd used stories of reckless Winchester bravado as propaganda to rally other hunters to his cause. The Winchesters required a careful, delicate touch given their interactions with his Organisation thus far, so perhaps honesty was the best policy where they were concerned.

"There's something else," he said, eyeing Dean's blade momentarily before staring into his furious eyes, "Your mother…"

"What about our mother?" Sam asked sharply, lifting Emma more fully into his arms and setting her down on the bed next to him.

"She…she's working with Toni now, recruiting hunters. I've had some reports that she may even be leading tactical teams on hunts…"

"The hell you say!" Dean bellowed, grabbing the lapels of Mick's jacket and shaking him.

"It's true!" Mick insisted, dragging himself away from Dean who'd let him go in order to stare at his brother.

Sam lowered and shook his head in resignation, evidently having no problem believing the words. Dean knew in his heart it was true, also. It seemed that their relationship with their mother was so deeply fracture that it had overridden her common sense if she'd willingly joined up with the merry band of dirtbags that had tried to kill her sons.

Dean stared at Davies with hard, evaluating eyes, clearly deciding whether to kill him or not.

"I'll make a deal with you," he said finally, surprising both the Brit and his brother, "You give me the Girdle _right now_ , and in return, you get to live another day. If I see you again, maybe I'll kill you quickly."

"That seems rather uneven…..alright, alright!" Mick wheezed, as Dean advanced on him, grabbing his throat and pushing him against the wall, "But…but it'll take me a couple of hours to organise…"

"You're a lousy liar, Mick," Dean scoffed, getting right into the other man's face, "Not even you're stupid enough to confront us without having that Girdle already hidden away somewhere. Did you bring it with you? Cause you're also not stupid enough to have left your only bargaining chip at home. _Speak_ _now_ , Davies, or I may just live up to my _reckless, arrogant, world-wrecking_ reputation, and gut you right here and now. I'll take my chances finding the belt without you."

"How've you managed to survive while being this short-sighted is a miracle, Winchester," Mick's voice hardened despite his predicament, "You and your brother are fighting a losing battle. The British Men of Letters have already begun revolutionising the way things are done in this country and if you have a problem with our presence here, you only have yourselves to blame. Now, I can help you with your daughter but nothing in this world is free and I'm not asking for much in return. Those are my terms, take them or leave them…."

"And by revolutionizing, you mean maligning us to our fellow hunters? Just because you're nicer about it, doesn't mean that you and Lady _Devil_ aren't two peas in a pod," Sam barked angrily, the memories of his lovely 'visit' with Toni flashing through his mind.

Mick ignored him. "It's your move, Dean."

"No…..it's not!"

There was a flash of light and Castiel was suddenly standing before them battered and bloodied, trench-coat in tatters and anger in his eyes. He pressed his palm to Mick's forehead and the Brit fell to the floor immediately.

"Cass!" Dean exclaimed, "What the hell, man?"

"Cass, are you okay? What happened?"

"We do not have time for this." Castiel walked up to Dean and touched his forehead. He disappeared immediately.

"Cass!" Sam gasped, backing away fearfully and falling clumsily onto the bed and partially onto Emma, as the angel walked purposefully towards him, never faltering in his stride.

A flash of regret crossed his face before his palm slammed into Sam's head. The flash of light blinded the younger Winchester and almost instantaneously, he found himself in a different motel room. Dean was already there, looking murderous as he rushed over to check on Emma who was lying on the lone bed in the room. Sam was sure that if he hadn't been touching her at the time, Castiel would have been more than happy to leave her behind.

The angel didn't appear for another few moments but when he did, the look on his face reflected impatience, as if he was expecting the inevitable onslaught of….

"I am five seconds away from ganking you with this," Dean growled as he shook his angel blade menancingly, "Where the hell are we?"

"Ohio. It….couldn't wait any longer. I need your help. Lucifer….."

"I'm pretty sure I've heard this song and dance before!" Dean roared, whatever remained of his self-restraint finally at an end, "I don't know how to get it through your skull…."

"I could say the same for you, Dean!" Castiel retorted, sounding even more irritated than usual. It took a few moments but he seemed to come to some kind of decision and began again, "I fully intended to honour your position. I went to my brothers and sisters but with our Father and Amara gone and our numbers decimated, their fear of an unchallenged Lucifer outweighed any desire to save humans…."

"What a surprise! Since when have angels…!"

"Dean!" Sam shouted, frankly tired of both of them, "Just let 'im talk!"

Castiel gave Sam a grateful yet wary glance before turning back to Dean.

"We…. _I_ screwed up," Castiel closed his eyes briefly, a look of consternation crossing his face, "Crowley, Rowena and I finally tracked Lucifer down in Ohio. He found an efficient way to combine his extreme narcissism with his contempt for our Father by performing one of his more abominable acts…."

"Which was?" Sam glanced at Dean, who'd silently made his way over to check on Emma. At least he'd stopped making smart-ass remarks.

"Archbishop Richardson of Ohio. He's in his late thirties- young for his position, but he's been an incredibly bright and dynamic force in the Church. His popularity has been instrumental in bringing scores of people back to the pews."

"Isn't that the baby-faced priest that's on T.V. every Sunday?" Dean groused, annoyed that Cass' story was beginning to intrigue him.

"Yes," the angel replied, turning to look at him, "He has embraced every modern form of communication- television, Instaface…."

Sam shook his head at Dean who, by the look on his face, had been planning to correct Castiel….snarkily.

"…Given the events of the past year, it is not surprising that many have been looking for some greater meaning. He promotes the Word through messages of hope, love…."

"Just what the world needs right now," Dean sneered, ignoring Sam's glare and running his hand through Emma's hair, "Another T.V. evangelist peddling faith to the unwashed masses. No doubt he's probably only a few hundred K away from having his own jet."

"No!" Castiel exclaimed adamantly, "Not this one! This one is different. He has a purity in his soul. His devotion is….. _was_ true…."

"Was?" Sam murmured, Castiel's desperation-filled voice overriding all of his irritation with the angel.

"Lucifer. He seems to have taken a liking to being adored by the multitudes. He had the adoration of Vince Vincente fans….."

"Hair rock," Dean muttered mockingly, the other two paying him no mind.

"What? I thought Ladyheart and those fans died in that freak fire. The news said it was faulty electrical wiring in that old building where they held that impromptu concert."

"That was the story we came up with. I told you about this last time…"

"Not in so many words, Cass!" Sam was shocked. He'd been a huge fan of that band when he was younger.

"So you're saying that you would have helped me if I'd told you about the musician…?"

"No, I'm not. Look, just finish what you were saying."

Castiel closed his eyes, his forehead wrinkling in frustration. "Lucifer has always acted like a mean-spirited child throwing a tantrum. You heard him accept our Father's apology yet here we are again, with him ready to lay waste to all that He has created. Lucifer knows he has no equal here on Earth with Father and Amara gone, so he has become the proverbial child in a candy store….and he has chosen to be facetious in the way he picks his sweets. He wrote a passage from The Bible, 2 Corinthians 11:13-15, "For such people are false apostles, deceitful workers, masquerading as apostles of Christ. And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light. It is not surprising, then, if his servants also masquerade as servants of righteousness, their end will be what their actions deserve."

"How? How exactly did he write that?" Dean asked quietly, already having an inkling as to what the answer would be.

"In their blood- _all_ of their blood…the _entire_ congregation. At least two hundred people including ten young children and a pregnant woman. He slaughtered them in the cathedral in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon…."

"So that passage was meant to describe this Archbishop? I don't understand….."

"Lucifer deceived Richardson into believing that he represented something divine…an actual Messenger of God come to deliver the Word directly to him. Lucifer….. _warped_ his mind so that he willingly allowed his body to be used as a vessel to spread that Word directly to his congregation. He made Richardson write that passage in their blood…..do you know how much blood it takes to write…."

"Okay Cass, we get it," Sam said quietly, when the angel was unable to continue.

"What do you want us to do?" Dean asked, his tone only slightly less hostile than before.

"This is my fault, Dean," Cass replied, sounding the most like himself in ages, "I thought that Rowena, Crowley and I could do this. With information from the angel tablet and the Book of the Damned, Rowena swore that she'd found a spell that would drain Lucifer of his grace. At least enough for us to trap him and get him back to the Cage…." Castiel paused again, regret evident in his expression, "Nothing we did fazed him. He toyed with us while he used Richardson. If he'd wanted to, he could have obliterated us, but it seems that he's been enjoying our game of cross-country cat and mouse too much...it was a close thing. If our efforts didn't _amuse_ him so much, I don't think I would be standing here now. As he left, Lucifer told us we should "clean up the mess" and that he was onto "bigger and better massacres," Castiel's face was earnest as he looked between the brothers, his tone now pleading, "We've failed miserably at every turn yet Rowena and Crowley are still committed to helping me pursue him. We just can't go on as we have... we need help. _I_ need your help. _All_ of us are responsible. _We_ are to blame for his rampage and he's made it clear that this will only get worse. Please….. _please..._ I need you..."

Sam and Dean stared at Castiel in silence, taking in his plea. Sam was certainly torn between wanting to support his brother and niece, and the increasingly disastrous catastrophe awaiting them if they didn't go after Lucifer now.

"Dean?" Sam said, the tone of his voice summarising all of these thoughts.

"Yeah, I know," Dean sighed, looking down at his daughter's face, "Okay, Cass, tell us what we have to do."


End file.
